


Finding Home

by paperstorm



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-08
Updated: 2010-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter title and lyrics are from the song 'First Time' by Lifehouse.</p></blockquote>





	1. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and lyrics are from the song 'First Time' by Lifehouse.

"Detention, Potter."

The words were still ringing in his head. Harry mentally punched himself. Only he would be stupid enough to get detention on the morning of Gryffindor's first game against Slytherin. He couldn't believe they would have to forfeit this much awaited match because he and Ron had just _had_ to sneak over to Hagrid's at midnight. The Slytherin team had never beaten them before, not once in _six years_ , and now they would, all because of Harry. He rolled his eyes in disgust at his own bad judgment and kept walking toward the hospital wing, where he had been assigned to clean bedpans and change sheets. How could he have been so stupid? And furthermore, why the hell had Snape been out prowling the grounds at midnight? Damn Snape. Of all the times for the slimy bastard to catch him, why did it have to be now?

He kept walking, his pace increasing in his anger. Who was he kidding? He knew very well why Snape had been out prowling the grounds. Snape knew as well as Harry did that the Gryffindor team had no reserve players, a decision which Harry now deeply regretted. Harry was prepared to bet his Firebolt Snape had been out all night for the past week, hoping to catch a team member out of bed so he could slap them with a week's detention and Gryffindor would have to forfeit the game. Stupid, slimy – BANG!

Harry had rounded a corner quickly and crashed headlong into something hard. He stumbled over backwards, little white stars dancing in front of his eyes. He groaned and put a hand to his throbbing head.

"Fuck, Potter!" came an angry reply from the ground beside him.

Harry knew that voice. "Perfect," he muttered darkly.

Draco Malfoy picked himself up off the floor, brushing off his robes before shooting out, "If you're going to crash blindly into things, you could at least wait until a Quidditch game so it might help me beat you."

Harry didn't move for a minute. He lay flat on his back, glaring resentfully at the ceiling and silently cursing the boy he knew was standing at his feet, glaring back.

"What are you doing here?" he spat at the ceiling.

"Detention," Malfoy answered, sounding every bit as bitter about it as Harry felt. "Damn McGonagall," he added as an afterthought.

Harry sat up slowly. "You got detention?"

Malfoy stared at the hospital wing door. "Yup," he answered dully.

"You got detention _today_?"

" _Yes_ , Potter," Malfoy answered impatiently.

"What about the game?"

"Well, I'm going to miss it, aren't I?" Malfoy turned to face Harry, rolling his eyes. "You're just as perceptive as always, I see."

Harry sat very still on the floor, transfixed. Malfoy had detention? Was it possible Slytherin had to forfeit too? "Who's taking your place?" he asked slowly, hardly daring to believe it.

"No one," Malfoy said, kicking the wall lightly. "There isn't a reserve seeker. Gryffindor gets the win."

Harry's eyes widened. "Yes!" he cried, jumping up. "This is perfect!"

"Yeah, for you." Malfoy went to kick the wall again, then stopped and stared at Harry for a moment. "Wait … why aren't you at the game? Doesn't it start like right now?"

"I'm here for the same reason you are!" Harry could barely contain himself. "I got detention! Gryffindor had to forfeit too! The game will be rescheduled!"

* * *

Malfoy finished stripping a bed and threw the sheets across the room, where they landed in a heap on the floor, a foot off from the bin he'd been aiming at. He looked for a moment as if he were trying to deciding whether or not to walk over and pick them up, but then thought the better of it. "So, what'd you do?"

Harry looked up absentmindedly. "Huh?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "De-ten-tion, Potter," he said slowly, as if talking to a small child or a mental patient. "What did you do?"

"Oh." Harry went back to the bed he had been stripping. "I, uh, snuck out after hours."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"What?"

"God, did you get hit in the head today, or something?" Malfoy asked exasperatedly. "Why did you sneak out? As in what did you sneak out to do?"

"Oh," Harry said again. "Uh … nothing. I just, uh … went for a walk," he answered, not wanting to get Hagrid in trouble.

"I don't believe you," Malfoy said bluntly.

Harry glanced at Malfoy warily. "Why not?"

"You went through all the trouble of sneaking out after hours just so you could go for a _walk_ , all alonein the middle of the night?" Malfoy asked skeptically. "Yeah right, Potter."

"Well …" Harry answered, not wanting Ron to get in trouble as well. "Okay, no, not exactly alone."

Malfoy's eyebrows went straight up and disappeared behind the shimmering blond strands that fell into his eyes. "Wait. Wait a minute. You wouldn't have happened to have been in the company of a female …"

"I never said –"

Malfoy's eyes filled with malicious delight. "You snuck out to see some girl?" He exploded with laughter. "Was it that little Weasley slut?"

"No, I – _slut_? How –"

"Or no, was it Granger?" Malfoy barreled on. "Oh god, please tell me it was Granger. How sweet, Potty and the Brainy Beaver have hooked up at last?"

"No, I didn't say it was a –"

"Did you bang her, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his eyes sparkling with glee.

"What?"

"You did, didn't you? I can just see it! You and Bush Head going at it in the back of the Transfiguration classroom."

"But –"

"That would be her place of choice, of course. Tell me, did she read while you were doing it? The smell of books turns her on, doesn't it?"

"No! I mean, I don't know, but –"

"Was she good, Potter? Was it just a good old fashioned humping or did she suck you off as well?"

" _What?_ "

"Are her pubes as curly as her head? Is she a screamer or a moaner? Did she scream out your name at the end, or was she imagining you were Krum? Did you –"

"Stop it!" Harry yelled. "There was no girl, ok? I was with Ron."

Malfoy stared, his expression unreadable. "Ron? You snuck out with Weasley?"

"Yes."

"Potty and the Weasel went for a little stroll, did they?" Malfoy rolled his eyes and started stripping the next bed. "God that is so _pathetic,_ Potter! I might've just gained a little respect for you when I thought you snuck out to bang some girl, but Weasley? You two are so sad. Although it must be nice to have a friend who's willing to satisfy your craving for night time wanderings and –" Malfoy stopped short and looked around at Harry, his expression turning to disgust. "Wait … you and Weasley didn't sneak out to … you know … did you?"

"What?" Harry cried. "No! No! I can't believe you said that!"

"Well how am I supposed to know? You and the Weasel have been practically inseparable since first year!" He left the sheets on the bed and backed away slowly, as if he didn't want to stand too close to Harry.

"Well we didn't! And we haven't!"

Malfoy didn't move. He just stared uncomfortably at the floor, obviously having never wanted to have this conversation. He left the bed he had been stripping after a moment, to begin on one across the room; the farthest he could get from Harry without actually leaving the Hospital Wing. Harry threw a pillow onto the bed he had been making and flopped down on it. He couldn't believe Malfoy would suggest that he and Ron had … he didn't even want to think about it.

Harry could feel Malfoy glancing uncomfortably at him, but chose to ignore it for the time being. His head was full of thoughts he'd never wanted to think. Malfoy's disgusted face swam in front of Harry's eyes. Great. Just great. Now Malfoy, one of Harry's greatest enemies, thought Harry was gay. Harry sighed, finding it difficult to ignore Malfoy's continuing glances. It made it worse that Harry knew exactly what Malfoy was thinking. It was the same thing Harry was thinking - him and Ron? Disgusting. Harry's brow furrowed as he sighed again. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Malfoy still making the bed unsteadily, in a lame attempt to act like nothing had happened.

Harry turned slowly to look at Malfoy, biting his lip in thought. Malfoy looked away quickly when he caught Harry's eye, but not before Harry noticed something he had never noticed before – Malfoy's eyes. He had always known they were grey, but he had never noticed what a nice shade they were. Malfoy's face was glistening slightly from the work and his hair was falling gracefully into his eyes. Harry smiled as he noted that Malfoy's face had rounded nicely. He no longer resembled a rat like he had when Harry had first met him. He was not bad looking at all, even attractive. Harry froze suddenly as he realized with a jolt what he had just thought. He had just thought of Malfoy as attractive. _Just stay calm_ , he told himself firmly. _Noticing that Malfoy isn't an ugly git anymore does not mean you are attracted to him_.

Wait. Why had he just panicked at the thought of being attracted to another guy? It wasn't like this was the first time he'd noticed he could tell the difference between a good looking guy and an ugly one. So then why was this bothering him so much?

* * *

 _For once in my life I'm scared to death_

* * *

Harry arrived back to his room three hours later, exhausted and stinking of cleaning fluid. He had been greeted by his ecstatic Quidditch team at the portrait hole, informing him what he already knew; that the match had been rescheduled. Harry had acted happy, but left the common as soon as they would let him. He now collapsed on his bed, his mind swimming with uncomfortable images and thoughts. Malfoy … with soft vanilla colored hair falling gently into steely grey eyes. Captivating eyes Harry couldn't believe he'd never noticed before. Knowing eyes that shone with experience and intelligence. Eyes that told the horrible secrets Harry knew Malfoy's mouth never would. Eyes that, like Harry's, told the story of a boy forced to grow up too fast. Eyes that somehow held everything, and nothing at the same time.

* * *

 _I see a world inside you waiting to come to life_

* * *

Harry didn't see Malfoy again until Wednesday when Slytherin and Gryffindor had double Potions together. Malfoy entered the dungeon after Harry, Ron and Hermione had already taken their seats. They sat at a table as far away from Snape as Hermione would let them. While she didn't want to be particularly close to the one professor their whole house hated, she also refused to sit too far away for fear of missing important bits of information. Harry looked up as Malfoy entered the room, but any sort of acknowledgement Harry had been expecting did not come. Malfoy took his usual seat on the other side of the room without a word to anyone or so much as a glance in Harry's general direction.

Harry drove all thoughts of Malfoy from his mind and attempted to pay attention, but it was no use. Within less than five minutes Harry's thoughts drifted once again to the blond boy on the other side of the room. Even thought he could only see the back of Malfoy's head, Harry could tell the other boy was trying determinedly not to look in his direction. Why, though? They hadn't exactly become friends during their detention, but before the discussion of Harry's sexual tendencies had begun they had spent the better part of an hour acting at least civilized. They'd made mostly polite conversation as if they hadn't spent the last six years hating each other. Harry hadn't really expected them to become friends as a result of one detention, but he hadn't expected them to go directly back to hating each other either.

Harry sighed and tried once again to pay attention.

* * *

 _It's easier to be broken, easier to hide_

* * *

It was close to midnight on Saturday night. That morning Hermione had drawn up revision schedules for Harry and Ron, even though Ron complained loudly that the N.E.W.T exams were ages away. After a long and exhausting day of Hermione forcing them to revise until they could almost recite all of her notes off by heart, Harry was surprised and frustrated to find he couldn't sleep. He now wandered the halls aimlessly under the protection of his invisibility cloak. He wasn't really sure what direction he was going anymore and he had the distinct impression that he'd never been where he was before. Under normal circumstances, that would've struck him as odd. He'd been out wandering around the castle so many times over the last seven years that it was nearly impossible he didn't have the place memorized by now, even if it was constantly changing. He was in a state of only partial consciousness, however, so he kept walking. After a while he noticed faintly that his feet had carried him into an empty classroom he was positive he'd never been in before. He threw off the cloak, sat down on one of the tables and looked around; mildly interested but only half absorbing his surroundings.

He couldn't remember the last time he been this confused. He couldn't get Malfoy's voice out of his head. The thought of Malfoy thinking he was gay was distressing him like nothing had before, although he had still not been able to figure out exactly why. He remembered dully how good Malfoy had looked that day in detention, his cheeks slightly flushed and his blond hair falling gracefully into those beautiful eyes. He then realized what had just gone through his mind and shook the thought out of his head. In almost seven years of knowing Malfoy he had never in his wildest dreams imagined he would one day think the words ' _Malfoy looks really good'_.

Just then he heard footsteps outside and jumped out of the stupor he had sunk into. He realized with a panic that the person was definitely getting closer. He tried to hurry over to where he'd dropped his invisibility cloak without making too much noise, but he'd only taken a few steps when the door opened slowly. Harry froze, his heart thumping madly.

"Hello?" the person said.

Harry squinted, trying to make out who it was through the darkness, but it was no use. All he could see was a faint black outline of someone about his size. But there was something familiar about that voice ...

"Who's there?" said the shadow.

Harry jumped a little as it dawned on him who it was. "Malfoy?"

There was a long pause, a shuffling of feet as the person moved into the room, and then a bright light as one of the lamps was lit. Harry blinked as the sudden flood of light stung his eyes. In an old pair of jeans and a plain muggle t-shirt stood Draco Malfoy, looking at Harry with a mixture of curiosity and distain.

"Great," Harry muttered under his breath.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, in classic Draco Malfoy fashion.

"I could ask you the same question," Harry retorted.

There was a brief pause, until - "I hate it when people say that," Malfoy commented.

Harry laughed to himself. "Actually, me too. They always say it in movies."

Malfoy frowned. "What's a moo-vee?"

"Never mind."

"So what are you doing here?" Malfoy asked again.

"Nothing, really," Harry shrugged. "I couldn't sleep so I was wandering around and ended up here."

Malfoy didn't look entirely convinced. "Why were you sitting in the dark?"

"I didn't really notice the light was off until you turned it on."

Malfoy didn't say anything, but continued to stare at Harry suspiciously.

"So … what are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Same reason I guess." Malfoy glanced around. "Have you ever been here before?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not even sure where we are. I wasn't paying attention when I was walking. I'm probably going to have a job getting back."

Malfoy nodded slowly but didn't reply. He looked away from Harry and began to wander around the room with an air of mild curiosity. Harry stared after him, bewildered. Malfoy wasn't acting like his normal self at all. He wasn't sneering, gloating, making comments about Harry's mother, or doing any of his usual favorite things. But he wasn't being exactly nice either – just kind of distant, as if it hadn't really registered that he had just walked in on Harry sitting alone in a dark classroom at midnight. Harry wondered vaguely whether Malfoy had been drinking; there was an indistinct haziness about him that Harry had never seen before.

"Um … Malfoy?" Harry said tentatively, not entirely sure what he was going to say after Malfoy answered.

Malfoy turned slowly and his face changed from the serene expression it had earlier held, as if it had just truly dawned on him that Harry was standing there. Harry's breath hitched; the moonlight filtering through the window had lit up Malfoy's face and Harry once again found himself thinking about how good Malfoy looked. The other boy looked as if he were trying desperately to think of something to say and the small line that had formed between his eyebrows made him look more adorable than ever. When he bit his lower lip Harry thought his stomach might be in danger of falling out of his body.

Malfoy took a step closer to Harry and opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought the better of it and stared at the floor. Harry's heart was thumping so hard he was sure it must be echoing throughout the room. He was paralyzed with a mixture of fear and excitement that he couldn't quite explain. This was Malfoy after all; he was both a boy and a boy Harry had very recently despised. Why was he suddenly turned on by him?

 _Kiss him._

The thought came from nowhere. Harry almost jumped. There was no way he was going to kiss Draco Malfoy! But the little voice in the back of Harry's brain was somehow louder then the many other voices telling him to run away. He found himself wondering how Malfoy would react. He wondered how it would feel to have Malfoy's lips against him, to have Malfoy's hands on him, to have Malfoy's tongue in his mouth …

 _Just kiss him._

Harry took a deep breath. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, but he seemed to have lost control of his body and his legs carried him slowly forward. Malfoy was now eyeing him warily but, in true Malfoy fashion, he did not back down. Harry took a deep breath and moved in as close as possible without actually touching the other boy. He couldn't even see Malfoy clearly anymore, just a blurry image of what he knew were Malfoy's grey eyes. Making a snap decision to go all the way, Harry slowly closed his own eyes and pressed his lips against Malfoy's slightly open mouth. For a moment Malfoy didn't move, and Harry gritted his teeth, expecting Malfoy to push away and start yelling. After mere seconds, however, Malfoy made a noise of utter contentment – halfway between a sigh and a moan. He slowly lifted his hands to either side of Harry's face and opened his mouth a little more, deepening the kiss. Harry felt his stomach drop about a foot – the same feeling as walking down stairs in the dark and missing one. Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy's waist and felt another sigh vibrate through them both. Malfoy's hands moved from Harry's hair and slid down to Harry's waist, one of his fingers drawing a circle in the small of Harry's back. Harry felt a slight lump in his pants beginning to form, causing his stomach to drop another few feet, and went to pull Malfoy impossibly closer. Just then, however, Malfoy pulled away.

"What are we doing?" he whispered, his voice full of concern.

Harry blinked, having trouble remembering what those words meant. He tried and failed to speak, only coming up with "Ugbah", finding it hopelessly difficult to force his mouth to form words when all it really wanted to do was reattach itself to Malfoy's. "What?" he finally managed.

"We just kissed, Potter," Malfoy had backed away entirely now; his eyes shining with worry, and was that … fear?

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly, his brain beginning to focus.

"I don't … I mean I haven't … I mean we don't …" Malfoy stammered, taking another uncomfortable step backwards and bumping awkwardly into the desk behind him.

"We've never done that before," Harry finished, feeling himself flush. "And I take it you've never done that before."

Malfoy stared fixedly at a spot on the wall just left of Harry's knees, his eyes wide. "Not with another guy," he barely whispered.

Harry didn't speak for a moment, letting the truth come crashing around him like the relentless rain that could now be heard pounding into the roof. He'd just kissed another guy. A _boy_. And not just any boy. Draco Malfoy. He had just locked lips with one of his greatest enemies, who just happened to be _male_. And worst of all; he'd liked it. It had felt good – right. Kissing Cho had been a disaster and kissing Ginny hadn't been much better, though Harry had never let himself admit it. But kissing Malfoy and had been perfect, exactly how he'd always imagined a kiss should be.

"Me neither," he replied finally.

Malfoy mouthed helplessly, swallowed, and then walked in a stunned kind of trance toward the door. He left without looking back, leaving Harry alone in the dimly light room. Harry would've kicked himself in the face if it were possible to bend that way. How could he have been so thick? What could he possibly have been thinking, kissing Draco Malfoy?

He heard a creak that sounded unmistakably like door hinges and looked up to find Malfoy standing in the doorway. Both boys stared at each other's ankles for a moment before Malfoy spoke.

"Please don't tell anyone," he said, in a tiny and defeated voice.

Harry was almost shocked that Malfoy thought he would, but remembered that they'd never been exactly nice to each other in the past. A week ago Harry would've taken any chance he could get to humiliate Malfoy, and he knew Malfoy would've done the same.

"I won't," Harry answered, and Malfoy left without another word.

* * *

 _We're crashing into the unknown_

* * *

It was almost Easter Break, and the closer the N.E.W.T. exams crept, the more demanding the 7th year classes became. Each teacher was piling on the homework like never before. Harry, Ron and Hermione were up past midnight in the common room each night, writing until it felt like their hands might fall off. Hermione seemed to have taken it upon herself to guarantee Harry and Ron passed their exams, and while this was a nice gesture, she was really just making matters worse. She became increasingly shrill and irritable as the days went by, and usually refused to let them go to bed until she had revised all of their homework. On Tuesday she'd ripped Ron's Potions essay into shreds when he told her she looked like she needed more sleep. Ron hadn't spoken to Hermione at all the next day. Apart from secretly feeling Ron had gotten what he'd asked for, Harry was too tired to bring himself to care.

Harry found himself enjoying their unusually heavy workload, as it left him with no time to dwell on anything but studying. Considering the circumstances, this was more than Harry could've hoped for. When Harry had woken up on the Sunday morning after the incident with Malfoy he'd promised himself he would never think about it again, and he hadn't … until after dinner on Wednesday, when he saw Malfoy for the first time since their previous encounter. Harry spotted him sitting alone on the steps to the castle with his robes discarded beside him, writing something and frequently scratching out whatever it was. Harry told Ron and Hermione he was going for a walk and stepped out of the entrance hall, drawn unexplainably to the way Malfoy's hair was blowing softly in the faint breeze. Harry had no idea how long he stood there staring at the back of the other boy's head, until he shifted his weight and stepped on a twig, the resulting crack causing Malfoy to jump up and spin around.

"Oh," he said upon seeing Harry. "It's you."

"Hi," Harry said quietly. There was no reply. Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Okay … well … bye."

Harry turned around to leave, mentally kicking himself again. First he kissed Malfoy and now he'd been caught staring at the back of his head like a complete idiot. Why did he insist on constantly making a fool of himself?

"No, wait," Malfoy said suddenly.

Harry stopped and turned around uncertainly.

"I mean, you can go if you want to," Malfoy said, flushing slightly and not meeting Harry's gaze. "I just … well, I didn't mean that I wanted you to leave."

"Oh."

"Actually, I was just writing you a note," Malfoy barreled on with the air of someone forcing himself to say something before good sense got the better of him. "I was going to get a house elf to leave it in your dormitory, but I could just say it to you in person, you know, seeing as you're here … unless you have somewhere else you need to be … and if you do, I guess … I guess I'll just finish the note," he finished lamely.

Harry stared, trying to work out what Malfoy had just said. "I don't have somewhere else to be," he replied after a moment.

Malfoy suddenly became very interested in Harry's shoes. "Well, I … I just wanted to thank you, you know, for not telling anyone about … you know."

Harry didn't know what he had been expecting Malfoy to say, but it certainly wasn't that. This was a completely different Malfoy than one Harry knew, and Harry found it quite unsettling. This Malfoy was nervous, uncomfortable and self-conscious; three emotions Harry was sure Malfoy had never felt before in his life. And unless Harry's ears were deceiving him, Malfoy had just thanked someone; another thing Harry was sure no Malfoy had ever done before.

"No problem," Harry said after a moment. "You didn't really think I would actually tell anyone, did you?"

"No," Malfoy admitted slowly, "No, I guess not."

They were silent for what felt like hours to Harry, now shivering slightly in the cool breeze.

"I'm sorry," he finally offered tentatively, "about that night. I didn't mean to – well I guess I meant to, but I wasn't really thinking. I didn't want to …" He trailed off embarrassed. It was true; he'd just lost control, but he wasn't sure Malfoy would see it that way. However –

"I know," Malfoy answered. "Me too."

They were silent again. Again Harry shifted uncomfortably; this was without a doubt the most awkward conversation he'd ever had.

"You lied to me," Malfoy said suddenly, looking Harry in the eyes for the first time.

Harry was taken aback. "What? When?"

"When we did that detention together," Malfoy answered. "You told me you weren't gay."

"I wasn't!" Harry said quickly. "I mean, I'm not!"

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "You're not? Then what happened last week?"

"I don't know!" Harry burst out, exasperated. Was it Harry's imagination, or had Malfoy just moved an inch closer?

"You don't know or you don't want to tell me?" Malfoy asked.

"Both," Harry answered truthfully.

Malfoy didn't say anything, just stared at slightly off to the side, his expression somewhat unreadable. He didn't look revolted that Harry had been attracted to him, which Harry supposed was a good thing, although he didn't look particularly pleased about it either.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked tentatively.

Malfoy nodded.

"Last week when we … you know … well before you flipped out, you were … kissing me back." Harry paused, waiting for some kind of response, but it didn't come. "And I guess I was just wondering –"

"If I'm gay," Malfoy finished.

"Yeah."

"No," Malfoy said quickly.

"Oh." Harry couldn't help being disappointed even though he would like to keep believing that he wasn't gay either.

"I have to go," Malfoy muttered, grabbing his robes and moving past Harry.

"Wait."

Malfoy turned slowly. His face was mere inches from Harry's, and Harry thought his knees might be in danger of giving out. All of a sudden Malfoy captured Harry's mouth almost roughly with his own. Harry jumped, but kissed back eagerly once the shock wore off. Just like before Malfoy's hands teased Harry's waist and Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy, this time actually pulling him closer. This kiss was immeasurably better than the first; desperate and passionate and perfect. Harry was dizzy and felt his mind clouding over, leaving no room for any thoughts except never letting go. When Malfoy's tongue slipped into his mouth Harry's knees actually did give away, but a strong pair of arms caught him before he hit the pavement and Malfoy hoisted Harry back up, laughing.

"What's the matter Potter?" Malfoy whispered seductively in Harry's ear. "Never had a tongue in your mouth before?"

"Just not yours," Harry answered shakily.

Malfoy laughed. He gazed intensely into Harry's eyes for a few moments, and Harry shivered.

"I should go," Malfoy said finally.

"What?" Harry protested. "Why?"

Malfoy smiled apologetically. "Because I'm not gay, Potter."

"Then what are we doing?" Harry asked.

"We lost control," Malfoy said firmly.

"If that's all this is then why can't you stay?" Harry said incredulously.

"Because we both know this can't go any further, Potter," Malfoy said. He bent down, picked up his robes and slipped them on.

"And if you stayed –" Harry started.

"I'm not saying it would turn into something, Potter, but this has happened twice already, so obviously neither of us can control ourselves! And I don't want to be the one responsible for us fucking on the steps of the goddamn castle!" Malfoy spat. He whipped around and left without another word, leaving Harry alone, cold, and extremely confused.

* * *

 _Like learning to feel again for the first time  
_

* * *


	2. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and lyrics are from the song 'On Fire' by Switchfoot.

Harry couldn't sleep. He was annoyed but not completely surprised – a good night's sleep was a concept almost foreign to him lately. He rolled over to face his sleeping dorm mates, throwing the sheets off himself. Harry stared blankly into the dark room, finding with mild surprise that he did not have to force himself not to think about what had happened with Malfoy. He felt nothing, not upset or confused. He wasn't even worried about facing Malfoy in Potions tomorrow. He was an empty shell, barely existing and drowning in a pool of white mist, and yet he couldn't bring himself to care. His second kiss with Malfoy had confirmed what he suspected he had feared all along; that no one wanted to be with him. Cho, Ginny, and now Malfoy. In all fairness Ginny had wanted to be with him last year, but no doubt she had moved on since. He had never felt so alone in his life. Even though there were four other people in the room he was all alone, being slowly swallowed by black loneliness.

 _I wonder if anyone would notice if I just jumped out that window_ , he thought dimly. He imagined Ron and Hermione's reactions if they found him dead on the ground five stories below his room tomorrow morning. Maybe all bloody, maybe barely recognizable as the boy who was once known as a hero. "Look at him now," people would say. "Some hero." Harry wondered vaguely if anyone would miss him. If Ron or Hermione would even care. He wondered if Malfoy would care.

He wondered why he cared what Malfoy thought. He didn't know.

* * *

 _Everything inside me looks like everything I hate_

* * *

"Harry … Harry!"

Harry woke with a start and tumbled clumsily of bed as a distant voice jerked him out of the light sleep he'd finally fallen into around dawn.

"Whadoyuhwan?" he exclaimed, blinking and attempting to untangle himself from the cocoon his sheets had wrapped him in.

"You're going to be late for class," came the voice reproachfully, which Harry now dimly recognized as Hermione's. She reached down and pulled Harry to his feet.

"Ron and I have been to breakfast already. You know you gave us a good scare when you didn't come back from your walk last night, if that's _really_ all you did, and then when we couldn't find you this morning … I'm not sure why Ron didn't think to check your bed. Too obvious for him I suppose. We looked for you everywhere else. Ron'll be pissed when he finds out you were here the whole time," Hermione continued briskly, picking a wrinkled shirt off the floor with two fingers and a disgusted look on her face, and shoving it into Harry's hands. She began to gather Harry's books as he pulled the shirt over his head groggily. "We should go, we're going to be late for Potions and you know how much Snape would love to give you a detention. Where are your books?"

"Eh?" Harry said thickly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, look at the state of this place! Maybe you'd know where your things were if you boys kept this room a little below nuclear disaster. Well never mind, we don't have time. Let's just go."

Harry, still half asleep, allowed himself to be frog marched out of the common room where they met Ron and made their way toward the dungeons. Harry only hazily remembered his encounter with Malfoy the night before, and had no recollection at all of how he got back to the common room. He let Hermione practically drag him to and into the classroom, ignoring the worried looks both Ron and Hermione kept throwing him as he tried to work out what had happened. He had kissed Draco Malfoy. Again. That was twice in a week he had made out with a guy, Draco Malfoy nonetheless. What had happened after they kissed? All he could recall was Malfoy leaving upset. Had he been angry, or sad, or …? Harry rubbed his eyes as he struggled to remember.

Just then Harry felt something soft hit the side of his head. He looked down and saw a folded piece of parchment on the desk in front of him, with the words 'Don't open in public' scrawled on the top. He looked around curiously and saw Malfoy sending him a brief, meaningful gaze before staring determinedly back at Professor Snape. Harry shivered, but pocketed the note, and spent the rest of potions forcing himself not to fantasize about what the note might say.

* * *

 _Potter –_

 _I need to talk to you. Meet_   
_me in the Astronomy Tower_   
_at midnight._

 _– Draco Malfoy_

 _  
_

Harry reread the note for what must've been the tenth time as he made his way to the Astronomy Tower at five to midnight. It was wishful thinking to hope Malfoy might want to continue where they had left off, but Harry couldn't think what else Malfoy could possibly want. He climbed the long staircase and was relieved to find the door to the tower unlocked. He was not so relieved to find Malfoy already there; staring out of one of the windows, the moon casting silvery-blue light onto his hair and face. He turned, startled, as Harry entered the room.

"Oh," he breathed, "It's just you."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Are you expecting someone else?"

"No. I guess I just didn't really expect you to actually come."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Malfoy shrugged. "No reason I guess."

There was an uncomfortable silence. For the second time Harry was struck with the increasingly odd impression that Malfoy was embarrassed. Draco Malfoy was the model of cool, calm and collected, so to see him experiencing an emotion like embarrassment was something Harry didn't think he could ever get used to.

"What did you want?" Harry asked after a moment, his voice echoing dully around cavernous room.

"I just think we should talk," Malfoy said matter-of-factly, obviously attempting to hide his embarrassment. "I feel like we need to settle what happened between us."

"Oh. Okay," Harry said uncertainly, although he had already somewhat prepared himself for the fact that they might never speak of it again. "What is there to settle?"

"I'm not gay," Malfoy said firmly, seemingly more to himself than to Harry. "I'm really not."

"Well … good," Harry said slowly. "No, I don't mean good, I just mean … me neither."

There was a long pause in which Malfoy stared at Harry's knees, his lips pressed together.

"So, is that all you wanted to tell me?" Harry asked finally.

Malfoy shook his head. "What I wanted to say was … okay, we have fun, right?"

"When?" Harry asked, confused. "Now?"

"No, like during that detention."

"Fun?" Harry snorted. "You accused me of sleeping with Ron!"

Malfoy smiled. "Well I enjoyed that. But before that, I mean. We got along and stuff. We had fun."

"I guess."

"And I felt like I could talk to you," Malfoy said slowly. "Like even though we hardly know each other, I could trust you somehow."

Harry stared. "Trust me?" he asked in disbelief. "Malfoy, the whole time we've known each other you hated me, and now all of a sudden you trust me?"

"I never hated you," Malfoy said quietly.

Harry was taken aback. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

Malfoy shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Not now, anyway. So … so I was just thinking that maybe we could just forget about what happened yesterday and just be … kind of … friends." He looked up at Harry expectantly.

Harry felt slightly paralyzed. Over the last few weeks he'd noticed Malfoy seemed to have that effect on him. He tried to work out what Malfoy had just said. He'd just assumed that after the initial shock of their make out session yesterday wore off they would go back to hating each other. And now Malfoy wanted to be friends? Not possible. Malfoy must be waiting for Harry to say yes so that he could laugh in Harry's face. It had to be a joke.

"I already have friends, Malfoy," Harry said.

"So do I!" Malfoy said quickly. "But what I don't have is someone to talk to. I mean really talk, not just about planning senior pranks on the teachers or who Parvati Patil is giving head to this week."

"You need someone to share your innermost thoughts and feelings with?" Harry asked mockingly.

Malfoy turned pink. "No, I just meant … it's just that my friends aren't great to talk to, you know if I ever had something serious that I needed to talk about. I know yours are probably better."

"Yeah, they are," Harry said.

"Let me ask you a question then, and if the answer is yes I'll never bother you about this again," Malfoy said, looking directly at Harry for the first time. "Do you really feel you can tell Weasley and Granger everything?'

Harry thought. True, Ron and Hermione were always there if he needed to talk. Hermione gave great advice and Ron could always make a joke that took Harry's mind off whatever was bothering him. And they were both good listeners most of the time. But now that he thought about it, Malfoy was right. Harry could never have talked to Ron about his relationship with Ginny. And he certainly couldn't tell Ron or Hermione about what had happened between him and Malfoy.

"No," he finally said quietly. "But there are things I can't tell _anybody_ , it doesn't matter who it is."

Malfoy shrugged. "Me too."

"I –" Harry stopped abruptly. "Like what?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Did I not just say I couldn't tell anyone?"

"Fine. Anyway, the point is this would never work. Hell, Malfoy, your father's part of a group of people who've been _trying to kill me_ for the last seventeen years!" Harry exclaimed. "How could you think we could be friends?"

"Simple," Malfoy said quietly. "I'm not my father."

"No, but you're just like him," Harry retorted.

Malfoy's face fell slowly. He stared at Harry for a moment with crestfallen eyes. "Is that what you think?" he finally asked.

"I think it because I've never seen any different," said Harry honestly. "Because you call Hermione a Mudblood, and never stop making fun of Ron's family just because they don't have as much money as yours does, and you think you're better than everyone."

"So?" Malfoy protested. "So I make fun of people! So I'm an arrogant prick! That doesn't mean I want to be a Death Eater; that doesn't mean I want to kill people."

"How do I know that?" Harry asked. "How do I know you're not just trying to get close to me so you can get information about me that Voldemort could use? How do I know you haven't been employed by him as some kind of spy?"

"Because I'm telling you that I'm not."

Harry shook his head. "How can you expect me to be able to trust you on that after everything we've done to each other in the last six years? Look Malfoy, I'm not trying to be a jerk. But whether you like it or not you are connected with a man who wants to kill me, and worse. There's far too much at stake. It's not just me. If Voldemort gets an edge on me thousands of people could die."

Malfoy didn't say anything.

"And you're horrible to Hagrid!" Harry added, anger flooding him as he suddenly remembered all the reasons why he hated Malfoy in the first place. "You gave that Rita Skeeter information about him, trying to get him fired, and you milked that stupid Hippogriff injury for all it was frickin worth. It's thanks to your _Master_ that I have no parents and that Neville Longbottom grew up worse than an orphan. Oh – the Inquisitorial Squad ring any bells? You helped Umbridge fight against me; you were _disappointed_ when she decided not to use the Crutacious Curse on me!"

Malfoy shifted his gaze to the floor.

"Oh, and at the Ministry in fifth year!" Harry fired at the top of Malfoy's bowed head, "Your father and his happy little Death Eater friends tried to kill me and some other totally innocent people who had nothing to do with it anyway. They seriously injured Hermione, and they did manage to murder my godfather; the one person I cared about most in the world. _And_ ," Harry barreled on furiously, "You laughed at Cedric."

Malfoy looked up. "What?"

Harry took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, but when he spoke his voice still shook with anger. "Fourth Year. The End of the Year Banquet, during Dumbledore's toast to Cedric Diggory. You _laughed_. I don't think I've ever hated you as much as I did right then."

Malfoy didn't answer. He turned his back on Harry, now gazing out the window.

"Wait. Wait a minute," Harry said slowly. "You don't really want to be friends, do you? You are going to be some kind of spy! This is exactly the same as in first year!"

Malfoy spun around; his brown furrowed. "What are you talking about Potter?"

"In first year you wanted to be my friend, remember? I could never figure out why. I mean a man you were connected with killed my parents, and was just biding his time before trying to kill me too! I may not have known that then, but you did. I know you did. He told you to do it, didn't he? It was like your assignment to become friends with me, to convince me that the Dark Arts are cool and Muggle-borns are scum. And then when Voldemort finally did come back it'd be that much easier for him to get to me," Harry said in a rush.

Malfoy blinked several times, as if trying to wrap his head around what Harry had just said. "Wha –? N – no, Potter, no!" he spluttered. "Have you lost your mind? That's ridiculous! First of all, you know as well as I that six years ago the Dark Lord was in no position to give instructions to anyone. And second of all, he doesn't hand out assignments to eleven year olds! That makes no sense."

"Then why did you want to be my friend back then?" asked Harry, crossing his arms firmly. "And why do you want to be my friend now? Why does this matter so much to you?"

Malfoy's expression snapped quickly from one of disbelief back to its usual sneer. "It _doesn't_ matter to me, Potter. I just know things can't ever go back to the way they were after what happened between us, and I thought making the best out of the situation would be better than ignoring it completely. But whatever, it's not like I need you."

And with that Malfoy turned on his heel and left the room, once again leaving Harry alone and confused.

Harry rolled his eyes at no one in particular and let out a frustrated and exasperated sigh. Draco Malfoy was without a doubt the most confusing and complicated person Harry had ever met. Making a snap decision to not let Malfoy get away this time, Harry started out of the Astronomy tower and ran down the stairs.

"Malfoy!" Harry yelled when he spotted the other boy at the bottom of the stairs.

Malfoy turned, startled. "What?'

" _What_?" Harry said incredulously. "What do you mean; what? I just … I can't …" he spluttered, trying and failing to find the right words.

Malfoy peered at Harry through squinted eyes with a look of mock concern on his face. "Is it me, or did you just get stupider?"

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "You're the one who's being stupid."

"How so?"

Harry's jaw dropped. " _How so_? Did you not just ask me to be friends with you?"

"What's your point?" Malfoy asked simply.

"My point is … my point is I don't know what your point is!" Harry yelled, not even caring that he wasn't making sense anymore. "I don't get you, Malfoy. As much as I try I just can't figure you out! You've been a completely different person than the one I used to know these last few weeks. You've been nice to me, then you _kissed_ me and then you had me meet you up here so you could ask me to be your _friend._ Then when I point out what I thought would be the obvious – that the idea of us being friends is ridiculous – you turn right back into your old self, just like that! Sneering at _me_ and making it seem like _I'm_ the one who's acting strange! I just don't get it."

"You kissed me first," Malfoy said quietly.

"The first time. But you definitely initiated it the second time, on the steps," Harry protested.

"Would you have done it if I hadn't?" Malfoy asked.

"I –" Harry faltered, "… maybe. I don't know. But stop changing the subject!"

Malfoy sighed. "Look, I just thought … I don't know … that I never stop hearing great things about you. That you're such a nice person and such a good friend. And maybe I was a little jealous because my friends aren't. I thought maybe we could just hang out once in a while, you know, get a little break from our other friends. I don't know about you, but mine definitely get on my nerves sometimes."

Harry nodded. As much as he loved Ron and Hermione their constant bickering did aggravate him after a while. "Yeah they do sometimes I guess."

"I can understand how it would be difficult to trust me, considering …" Malfoy trailed off.

Harry nodded again. "This really isn't me being selfish. There are so many people out there whose lives rely on me, and I don't know what Voldemort's planning. For all I know any little bit of information could be used, and I can't risk that."

"I don't know what he's planning either, and I wouldn't tell anyone anything. I'm not a Death Eater, Potter, regardless of what you might think," Malfoy said quietly.

"A part of me wants to trust you," Harry said honestly. "But you know I can't."

"So then don't tell me anything he could use," Malfoy replied. "Nothing personal, we'll just talk casually."

Harry sighed. All his instincts were telling him that Malfoy was lying; that even considering this was pure insanity. But Harry's better judgment was losing to the tiny, hopeful smile on Malfoy's face and the soft blond strands falling into eyes Harry wanted so much to believe. Harry couldn't deny how attracted he was to the other boy, and even though he knew better a part of him just wanted to be close to Malfoy, whatever the situation.

"Okay. Okay, as long as it's nothing important," he conceded.

Malfoy nodded, smiling.

"When should we meet?" Harry said uncertainly.

"I don't know," Malfoy said shrugging. "I'm free now. Got anything you need to talk about?"

Harry laughed. "Not really. But I don't feel like going to bed either."

"Okay, so let's talk then." Malfoy walked past Harry and back up the stairs to the Astronomy tower.

Harry followed him up and watched him sit down against the wall under the window, motioning for Harry to sit beside him. Harry sat, but a good foot away from the other boy. The moonlight shining through the window made Malfoy's hair look beautiful, and Harry didn't want to be tempted to kiss him again.

"So," Malfoy said.

"So," Harry agreed, unsure of what to say. Both boys sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you a virgin, Harry Potter?" Malfoy said suddenly.

Taken aback by Malfoy's abruptness, Harry answered, "Technically" before he'd had the chance to think about what he was saying.

"What does technically mean?" Malfoy asked.

"Hey, I thought we agreed no personal stuff," Harry protested.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on Potter, the Dark Lord isn't going to care whether or not you've had sex. What does technically mean?" he asked again.

Harry could almost hear the smirk he knew was on Malfoy's face. "It means I haven't actually done _it_ , but I've done … you know, stuff," Harry retorted.

"Like what?"

Harry didn't answer. He wasn't going to tell Malfoy anything, but Malfoy seemed to take Harry's silence as an invitation to figure it out for himself.

"Well you've only dated two girls, the little Weasel and that Asian chick, and you only went out with the Asian chick for like four hours, so I shall assume it was the little Weasel," Malfoy guessed correctly.

Harry stared strait ahead, refusing to let the answer show on his face.

"So what, she did stuff to you?" Malfoy asked, sounding slightly impressed through the smirking.

Harry made no noise again, but knew it was pointless as Malfoy had already figured it out.

"She sucked you off didn't she?" Malfoy smirked.

Harry still said nothing but blushed involuntarily, letting Malfoy know that he was right.

Malfoy laughed out loud. "You guys only went out for a few weeks! I knew she was easy, but I didn't think Saint Potter the Innocent would ever agree to that so fast. Was she good?"

Harry shrugged again, staring at his hands. "It's not like I have anything to compare it to."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You don't need to have a comparison to know whether it feels good or not."

Harry snickered. "I guess not."

"So?"

"So yes, it definitely felt good."

"Did you, you know …" Malfoy made a noise like an explosion.

Harry smiled in spite of himself. "Yes," he said, trying not to sound too pleased with himself.

Malfoy nodded. "Not bad, Potter, not bad," he said, sounding halfway between amused and impressed.

"What about you?" Harry asked. "There's no way Draco Malfoy is a virgin."

"Yes there is, Potter."

Harry stared. "Seriously? But you always have all those girls all over you! You're actually telling me you've never done it with any of them?"

Malfoy shook his head, obviously uncomfortable.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, quite unsure of what to say. Malfoy's evident reluctance to continue on the subject stopped all the questions Harry had in their tracks.

"You know …" Harry started. "Actually, never mind."

"No, what?"

Harry hesitated. "I was just going to say that you could call me Harry, if you wanted to."

Malfoy smiled. "Yeah … I will. And you could call me Draco, if you wanted."

"Draco," Harry smiled. "Ok, Draco, tell me something."

"What?"

"I don't have a subject in mind, just tell me something interesting," Harry explained.

"Like what?"

"Like whatever you want. Something about you, something that no one else knows."

"You already know lots of stuff about me that nobody else knows," Draco protested. "Most of the things I've told you nobody knows."

"Oh come on, just play the damn game," Harry rolled his eyes. "Tell me something."

"Well at least give me a topic."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes again. "Okay fine, how about … the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you."

"The most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me is a secret for a reason."

"Oh come on."

"Fine, fine. Okay … one time I was so hard up in Snape's class that I snuck into his store room when he was helping someone else so I could jerk off and he caught me."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Seriously? What did he say?"

"Nothing right away, he actually just said 'I'll let you finish' and closed the door. But the next day he called me into his office."

"Was he mad?"

"No, worse. He told me he went through the same thing when he was my age and that he understood the feelings I was having. He even gave me a whole father-son kind of talk about puberty and growing up and how it's normal for it to take a while to learn how to control my urges."

Harry laughed out loud. "Oh wow. That's hilarious!"

"Yeah, for you. I, on the other hand, was totally mortified. Okay, you go."

"Hmm. Ok well I don't think it's the most embarrassing moment of my life, but it's along the same line as yours was. One time my cousin caught me doing it behind the hedge in the backyard. I threatened to curse him if he told my aunt and uncle, and I think he probably would've told eventually anyway except that a few days later I walked in on him doing it in the hall closet so we decided it call it even. But then I made him mad later that day and he told his parents about me, so then I told about him. But in their eyes Dudley can do no wrong, so they took him out for dinner to celebrate him turning into a man and locked me in my room for a week to teach me to control my hormones."

Draco laughed. "No way, that's so not fair."

"Tell me about it," Harry groaned. "Dudley told all his friends too, and they still haven't let me forget it. I'm embarrassed just thinking about it."

"Are they really that bad?" Draco asked.

"Who, muggles?"

Draco nodded.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, most of them are just like us. The Dursleys are pretty horrible, but they're an exception. But anyway, I think I should probably try to get some sleep. I have to get up early for Quidditch practice."

Draco smirked. "Yeah you'd better. God knows Gryffindor needs all the practice they can get."

Harry smirked back at him. "That's pretty big talk coming from the seeker of a team that's never beaten us."

Draco laughed. "You know, as much as I rag on you, you actually are an amazing flyer."

"Yeah, you too."

"Well ..." Draco said slowly. "See you."

* * *

 _But everything inside you knows_   
_There's more than what you've heard_

* * *

"Why don't you care about doing well on these exams, Ron?" Harry heard Hermione's voice cry in exasperation as he hurried down the stairs from his dormitory and into the common room. Ron and Hermione were standing at opposite ends of a table, both with clenched fists and furious expressions.

"These 'stupid tests', as you put it, could determine our entire future! Don't you want to make something of yourself?" Hermione continued.

"Maybe it's not impossible for someone to make something of themselves without having memorized the exact recipe for a Sleeping Draught. Did it ever occur to you that not everybody cares how to make stupid potions that nobody ever uses anyway?" Ron spat back.

Harry silently agreed with Ron, but rolled his eyes and made quickly for the portrait hole, hoping Ron and Hermione would be too wrapped up in their latest row to notice him leaving. No such luck, however.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Ron called as Harry climbed into the portrait hole.

"Out," Harry yelled over his shoulder.

He knew he'd have to think of a better excuse later, but that could wait. Right now he had to get to the Astronomy Tower. Draco, always punctual, had no doubt been waiting for Harry for a good twenty minutes and Harry knew he wouldn't wait much longer before giving up. It was the third time they had met just that week and Harry was the happiest he had been in a long time. Draco was laid-back and funny which made him enjoyable to be around, but he was also an excellent listener, and never judged. For the first time since Sirius had died Harry felt truly understood; Draco could always make sense out of things in a way that Ron and Hermione had never been able to. Harry always had the surprising impression of an innocent child whenever he was around the other boy – Draco looked at the world in the most simple and uncomplicated way, as if he expected nothing from it.

Harry sprinted up three flights of stairs and was completely winded by the time he reached his destination. He opened the door to the astronomy tower and found Draco sitting in their usual spot under the window.

"What's wrong?" Draco said immediately.

Harry shook his head, smiling. It was next to impossible to ever hide anything from Draco, as Draco could always tell instantly when something was bothering Harry.

"Ron and Hermione are pissing me off." He collapsed against the cold wall and sunk, exhausted and frustrated, to the cool stone floor. "They never stop at each other's throats."

"About what?"

"About nothing!" Harry exploded. "That's why it bothers me so much; it's about absolutely nothing. Hermione's bossy and a know-it-all and Ron hates it, and Ron's lazy and never takes anything seriously and Hermione hates it. Every little thing turns into World War Three. You should've seen when Hermione tried to make Ron rewrite an essay – he was this close to hexing her, I swear."

Draco smiled. "Too bad he didn't. A good hex might've taken her down a few pegs."

"You only say that because you're sore that a muggle-born is beating you in every class."

"Damn right I am," Draco said sullenly. "You should hear my father talk about it. I'm practically a disgrace to the name Malfoy."

"Well Hermione works harder than you do. What do you expect?"

"Shut up, Potter," Draco joked. "Have you ever considered that she gets such good marks because she rarely extracts her head from McGonagall's ass?"

Harry pushed Draco over, indignant on behalf of his friend but not really mad. "No, I haven't. You know as well as I do McGonagall doesn't play favorites. Hermione gets good grades because she does her homework and actually studies."

"Why?" Draco scoffed. "It's not like anybody actually takes this place seriously."

Harry laughed. "Well you certainly don't. But Hermione probably wants to actually make something of herself. Plus I'm pretty sure she gets a kick out of being right all the time. It drives Ron nuts."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Sounds to me like he has a thing for her."

"He does," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"He told you?"

"No," Harry laughed. "He'd never admit something like that, mostly for fear of Fred and George finding out I think. But I can tell."

Draco let out a low whistle. "Granger and Weasley. How do you feel about that?"

Harry shrugged. "Ok I guess. Nothing's happened yet, so I guess I'll just deal with it when it does. If it does, I mean."

"You don't think it will?"

Harry shrugged again. "It's hard to say. They really piss each other off. They don't speak for days sometimes. Back in third year Ron thought Hermione's cat had eaten his rat and he didn't even look at her for like a month. It's hard to see that turning into romance."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "And what if it does?"

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "I really don't. As much as I want them to be happy, I kind of secretly hope nothing ever happens. I mean, we're three best friends. If two of us started dating it could never be the same again. Plus, what it they broke up? They're both so stubborn they'd probably never speak to each other again, and then I would have to pick one of them to still be friends with."

"They'd make you pick between them?"

"Well they'd never actually say I had to, but I know I would. When they were fighting over that rat Ron almost stopped speaking to me when he saw me talking to Hermione. I'd have to pick one of them or lose both of them."

Draco said nothing, just gazed ahead.

"Anyway," Harry continued apologetically, "I've been talking your ear off. What's up with you?"

Draco shook his head. "Nothing."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Well ok, something," Draco continued. "But it doesn't matter really."

"What?"

Draco stared at the floor. "I've had a letter from my father. He wants to pull me out of school next week so I can get this … mark … thing … it's really not a big deal, but I probably shouldn't even be telling you. You're not supposed to know, no one is …"

Harry's jaw dropped. "The Dark Mark?"

Draco looked up, startled. "You … you know about it?"

"Yeah, of course I do," Harry said impatiently. "Why does he want you to get it?"

"How do you know?" Draco demanded, his brow furrowed and his expression of utmost bewilderment. "It's not, like, common knowledge is it?"

"Not _common_ knowledge, but I'm sure quite a few people know. Dumbledore does at least, and he tells me pretty much everything," Harry scoffed, not totally sure why knowing more on the subject than Draco did was making him feel superior to the other boy. Maybe Draco was rubbing off on him. "Our side knows tons more than Voldemort thinks we do, anyway," he added with a touch of pride in his voice that didn't sound like him.

"Like what?" Draco said quickly, his steely eyes suddenly sharp with interest.

"Er … never mind, I shouldn't have told you that," Harry said guiltily, realizing much too late that this was exactly the kind of thing they'd agreed not to tell each other.

Draco nodded and stared at the inside of his right arm, shuddering slightly.

"Anyway, why does he want you to get it?" Harry cried, the uncomfortable superior feeling disappearing as surprise and concern washed over him once more.

"I'm of age now. He wants me to join up for real as soon as exams are over," Draco said with what sounded like a very forced composure.

Harry hardly dared to breathe for fear Draco would stop talking.

"It makes sense if you really think about it, I mean if all the Dark Lord ever had were middle aged men helping him there'd be a large demographic he'd be missing out on, wouldn't there? If he has followers of different ages he'll have a much wider span of support," Draco continued, sounding like he was repeating exactly what his father had told him in order to convince himself his father was right.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, but couldn't seem to form words. How had he not seen this coming? Lucius Malfoy was right in Voldemort's inner circle, obviously he would want his only son to be a Death Eater too. Harry couldn't believe he'd forgotten about that for so long. Harry had never let himself think about Draco when they were apart for fear of letting something slip to Ron and Hermione. And when they were together they had so much fun that Harry had stupidly ignored everything he knew about the Malfoys' connections to Voldemort.

"Please say something," Draco said quietly, not looking at Harry.

Harry swallowed. "I don't know what to say."

"You forgot about this, didn't you?" Draco said, smiling sadly.

Harry nodded. "Trying to be friends with someone I had hated for so long only worked if I shut out all the complications. I guess I shut them out for too long."

"I forgot about it too," Draco confessed. "It used to be all my father ever talked about, but I've had no word from him for so long I kind of figured he'd decided against making me get it. That maybe my mother had finally convinced him against it."

"So you don't want to then?" Harry said hopefully.

Draco sighed, staring at his hands. "What I want isn't really an issue. Unfortunately it's more complicated than that. I know better than to go against the Dark Lord, so if he wants me to join him then that will be the end of it."

"But if you did have a choice, you wouldn't?" Harry asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

"I don't know," Draco said softly. "Sometimes I feel like I want to, but then I don't know if it's what I actually want or if I've just convinced myself it's pointless to run from it. To be honest I was never really into the dark arts. I only pretended to be because I knew it was what my father and the Malfoy bloodline expected of me," he said resentfully. "Do you know where I was the night You-Know-Who came back, back in fourth year?"

"I know where you weren't," Harry said. "I know where your father was, and you weren't with him."

"Did you think I would be?" Draco asked, sounding surprised and hurt.

Harry shrugged apologetically. "I didn't so much expect it as … well, I wouldn't have been surprised."

Draco's brow furrowed. "Well you're right, I wasn't with him. I was in my dormitory, in my bed, under the blanket. Sobbing. Pitiful, isn't it."

Harry bit his lip and tried to think of _anything_ to say, but came up with nothing.

"I was scared," Draco said quietly, his eyes very red. "Because I knew this day would have to come, now that he was back." He paused thoughtfully. "Do you remember the first time we met up here, when I told you I had never really hated you?"

Harry nodded.

"My dad had wanted me to join since I was born," Draco said, "and I'm sure if you hadn't stopped the Dark Lord sixteen years ago my dad would've made me join up much sooner than this. In a way you saved me, at least for a while. I guess that's why I could never really bring myself to hate you."

Both boys sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, they had just both given each other a lot to think about. Harry's insides felt cold at the idea of Draco becoming a death eater. What if Voldemort forced him to kill people? Or worse, what if Draco didn't follow orders and Voldemort killed him?

"You wouldn't really become a Death Eater, would you?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "Like I said, it may not be my choice anymore. If I'm completely honest with myself, I don't want to, but I will if that's how things turn out."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because I've accepted the fact that this decision is not in my hands. My fate is not up to me and worrying about it won't change anything," Draco said firmly.

"But –"

"Everybody has to do things in their life that they don't want to do," Draco said heavily. "But you do them, because you have to. _You_ of all people should be able to understand that. I'm sure you don't want to be what you are, the Famous Harry Potter, I mean the fate of the free world practically rests on your shoulders! I know you don't want that. I know you don't want to be the 'Chosen One' who has to try to kill the Dark Lord. But you'll do it, I know you will. Because you have to." Draco paused, staring off into space for a moment and catching his breath before continuing softly. "We don't get to choose what we get in life, Harry. All we can do is take what we've been given and try to make the best of it. I don't want to become a Death Eater and you don't want to have to fight the Dark Lord alone, but we both will when the times comes. Because that's what we've been given, and that's what we have to do."

"But you do have a choice!" Harry said desperately. "Talk to Dumbledore, come over to our side. Dumbledore has the power to protect you, and he _would_ if you'd just let him."

"Potter …" Draco said exasperatedly, "… Harry. I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because all I am is a pawn in the Dark Lord's plan. I'm not important enough in the great scheme of things to think that me turning over to your side would change anything or help anyone."

"It would help you. You'd be safe," Harry persisted.

"Harry you have good intentions, I know you do, but you really have no idea …" Draco shuddered slightly. "The Dark Lord does not take kindly to being defied, and neither does my father. They'd come after me, I know they would, and if it meant killing people on your side to get to me they wouldn't bat an eyelash. They'd do it, and I can't let that happen. If other people have to die for me to be safe then it's not worth it."

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something else, but thought the better of it and settled for continuing to stare at his hands.

"That's … that's really brave," Harry said admiringly.

Draco shook his head. "I'm not brave."

"Are you scared?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Terrified," Draco whispered. "But courage is not the absence of fear, it's the decision that something else is more important than fear."

Harry's mouth broke into a small smile. "A muggle author said that."

Draco nodded. "I know. They're not all useless," he added, smiling momentarily.

"This isn't fair. You're not like them. You don't belong in that world," said Harry.

"Maybe I do," Draco said softly.

"No, you don't," Harry said firmly. "Even back when we were mean to each other, even back when I thought I hated you I always knew there was some good in you. I always knew you weren't as evil as you let on. You're a good person Draco, I see that now more than ever."

"How do you know?" Draco challenged quietly. "How do you know I'm such a good person?"

"I just know."

"What are you basing that on?" Draco asked. "I'm nothing close to a good person, I never have been. I'm an arrogant, sadistic jerk. I treat everyone like dirt, and I treat my friends even worse. I take pleasure in hurting others and I pride myself in my ability to kick people when they're down. And to top it off I've spent most of my time at Hogwarts scheming to overthrow Dumbledore and kick all the muggle-borns out of here."

"Those things don't matter," Harry said gently, subconsciously placing his hand lightly on Draco's leg. "Being mean sometimes doesn't make you a bad person. You have a good heart, which means you don't belong with them. I care about you too much to let you do this."

Draco said nothing, almost managing to conceal his surprise.

Harry glanced at his watch. "Damn, I have to go. I have to meet Hermione," he said regretfully, standing up and pulling Draco up with him. "Please think about what I said, and don't let your father push you around. If being a Death Eater is something you really want then I won't stop you. But I know it's not. So please just think about it ok?"

"Wait."

Harry turned back around and bumped into Draco's chest as two strong arms enclosed around him. Harry jumped slightly, and then relaxed almost unwillingly into Draco's warm body. Draco clung to Harry desperately as if he had never been hugged in his life, which Harry now realized was very possibly true – Harry had not gotten the impression that Draco's parent's were very loving the few times he had met them. Harry's mind clouded over again, just as it had the last time he and Draco had been this close. Harry hugged Draco back, but Harry's touch seemed to pull the other boy out of a momentary trance, and Draco pulled away.

"What was that for?" Harry asked, feeling himself blush.

"It's been a long time since someone said they cared about me," Draco said awkwardly, looking at the floor. "So … thanks."

"No problem," Harry said, in what he hoped was a casual voice.

Harry had forced himself not to think about Draco in 'that' way since they decided to be friends, but feeling Draco's body pressed that close to his had brought the memories quickly back. Harry muttered a hurried goodbye to Draco and left the corridor swiftly. He stopped as soon as he was out of the other boy's sight and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. His mind was flooded with a hundred thoughts and emotions; all crashing into each other and screaming for Harry's attention. His knees wobbled dangerously at the memory of Draco against him and his stomached twisted at the thought of Draco becoming a Death Eater. Somehow he managed to make his way back to his dormitory; angry at himself for wishing Draco were coming with him.

* * *

 _I'm standing on the edge of everything I've never been before_

* * *

 _Later that night Draco Malfoy lay curled in his bed, staring blankly into the darkness. His eyelids were heavy and itched with tiredness but he held them firmly open – every time he closed them the image of a boy with black hair, intense green eyes and a kind smile swam across his mind. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Harry Potter (_ Harry Potter! _) since they'd last seen each other. His face was hot with shame at his own weaknesses. Why the hell could he not control himself? To make matters worse he was slowly realizing that mere hours ago he had jerked off picturing the boy he'd been fighting so hard to forget. Harry fucking Potter! What the hell was the matter with him?_

 _  
_

* * *

_And I'm on fire burning at these mysteries ..._

* * *

For almost two weeks Harry made excuse after excuse as to why he couldn't meet Draco. Homework; emergency Quidditch practice; anything he could think of to get out of being alone in the dimly lit Astronomy tower with the boy who was now haunting his dreams. He couldn't look at Draco without imagining what it would be like to touch him – to _really_ touch him, in places others couldn't. He spent Potions class wondering what Draco would look like without a shirt. He spent Care of Magical Creatures visualizing Draco in the changing room after a game, sweaty and pumped with adrenaline and slowly undressing ... He relieved himself of these fantasies alone in the shower, desperately wishing that it were Draco's hand wrapped around himself instead of his own. Most mornings he woke up with sticky sheets and hoped with all he had in him that Dobby hadn't been assigned to change the beds in his dormitory.

He hated himself for how weak he had become. All it took was a glance from those grey eyes or a toss of that silky hair to get him going. He couldn't concentrate in any of his classes, even the ones Draco wasn't in. He would notice someone else's blond hair or someone would mention something about Slytherin's last Quidditch game and Harry would immediately be lost in fantasies.

On Friday Snape made Harry stay late to clean up some ingredients he had spilled while lost in daydreams. When Harry finally left the classroom he was cornered by Draco.

"Where've you been? I've hardly seen you in like two weeks!" Draco said resentfully.

Harry's stomach dropped a few feet as Draco put his hand on Harry's arm.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked gently. "I've been worried about you."

"I'm … I'm fine," Harry spluttered. "Totally fine, I just … I have to … I need … I have to go," he finished lamely, wanting to kick himself for coming up with such a bad excuse.

"My friends are pissing me off, I need to see you," Draco persisted.

Harry swallowed. "Soon," he promised.

"Tonight?" Draco asked hopefully.

Harry took one look at Draco's memorizing eyes and gave in. "Sure. Tonight."

Draco smiled and Harry's stomach dropped a few more feet. "See you at nine then." Draco walked away, still smiling.

Harry nearly collapsed.

* * *

 _Give me everything you are_   
_Give me one more chance to be_

* * *

Harry's senses had left him. He had been sitting on the floor in the fourth floor corridor talking to Draco for almost a half hour, and the longer they talked the worse his senses got. His brain was a whirlpool of white mist. He could barely see or hear and when Draco's foot had accidentally touched his he hadn't even felt it. His whole body felt numb and his mind felt far away. He couldn't believe he had let Draco talk him into meeting again. _Not that I needed much convincing_ , he thought bitterly. One look at those stormy grey eyes and Harry melted like an ice cream on a hot day. Harry was utterly disgusted with himself. So much for self control.

"I think my friends know about you."

Harry snapped back to reality far too abruptly. "They do?"

"Well, I don't think they know it's you, but they know I've been sneaking off to see somebody," Draco continued, his brow furrowed. "They've been really weird lately, though. They keep asking me about where I go when I'm not with them. They never used to do that before, they always kind of let me get on with my own business. I've told them I'm studying, but you and I have spent a lot of time together and my marks aren't improving, so I don't think they believe me anymore. Actually, I think they think I'm off shagging some girl."

Harry smiled. "I haven't thought about it before, but mine probably think so too."

It hadn't really occurred to him before that Ron and Hermione probably didn't truly believe the increasingly lame excuses he came up with. It puzzled him now that he thought of it. It wasn't at all like Hermione to let something like that slide.

"Sneaking around and meeting up secretly isn't something friends normally do …" said Draco quietly.

"Hey, we did have those kisses a while ago," Harry joked. As soon as the words were out of Harry's mouth he regretted them. Why did he have to say that? He had worked so hard to keep from Draco that he had feelings for him, whatever the hell those feelings were. And now he had to go and bring up their kisses.

But to Harry's surprise Draco didn't look uncomfortable or embarrassed, he simply looked up slowly and whispered, "Yeah."

Draco didn't look as though he were upset at the idea of them being more than friends. He looked almost thoughtful, as if he were actually considering it, and eyed Harry with an odd expression.

"What?" Harry asked, thrown off by Draco's stare.

"Nothing." Draco shook his head as if to clear it. "I was just remembering when we … you know."

Harry held his breath, afraid that any noise might make Draco stop talking. Draco, however, suddenly looked at Harry as if he'd only just noticed Harry was there. His mouth fell open slightly and his eyes widened, full of dismay.

"Oh my god …" he breathed. "Maybe I am gay." Draco put a hand over his mouth, stunned. "No!" he cried suddenly, jumping up. "I'm not gay, Potter, I'm not!"

"I … I never said you were …" Harry said uncertainly.

"Well … well good!" Draco exploded, beginning to pace. "Because I'm not! And I won't be! Not ever!"

"Draco, what's wrong with you?" Harry asked.

"Me? There's nothing wrong with me!" Draco spluttered, his face very red and his eyes wild. "The only way there would be something wrong with me is if I was gay, which I'm not, I'm not!"

"Okay!" Harry said quickly. "Okay, I believe you!"

Draco stopped pacing and turned to face Harry, still quite red.

"Will you please sit down?"

Draco moved back toward Harry slowly, with an expression like a frightened animal.

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked after Draco had sat back down, a bit further away from Harry that he had been.

"Nothing," Draco said softly. "I'm sorry, I just … I don't know. I'm not gay."

"I believe you," Harry repeated.

"Are you?" Draco asked slowly, without looking at Harry.

"No," Harry said automatically.

Draco shifted slightly so he could look Harry strait in the eyes. Harry tried to steady his breath, his foot twitching as he attempted to stop himself from jumping on Draco right there and then.

"You are, aren't you?" Draco asked softly.

Harry sighed, defeated. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "Maybe."

Draco nodded and inched a bit closer. "Have you thought about that kiss before now?"

Harry nodded shyly.

"Lots?"

Harry nodded again, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest as Draco moved closer still. "Have you?"

"Maybe," Draco said timidly.

Harry stomach twisted, his heart continuing to race. Draco was now so close that Harry could feel warm breath on his cheek.

"I think I might kiss you," Harry whispered.

Draco said nothing, but licked his lips again, the bottom one trembling slightly. Harry couldn't believe what he was about to do, but knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't. He leaned forward and pressed his lips into Draco's. Draco wriggled closer and placed a hand on Harry's leg. Harry's whole body went numb at the touch and his brain clouded over. This was really happening. He was really kissing Draco Malfoy, again. Draco Malfoy's hand was slowly moving up the inside of his thigh, leaving a burning sensation behind it. When it was centimeters away from his groin Harry grabbed it. Taking advantage of Draco's momentary surprise, Harry pushed Draco into the wall and straddled him. Harry was stunned at his own boldness, but when their lips met it was like a dragon had erupted into his chest; a dragon that had been locked in a cage since their last kiss and had finally been set free. He couldn't have stopped even if he'd wanted to. He seized both Draco's wrists and held them captive against the wall. Draco looked up at him and Harry recaptured Draco's mouth. He lowered himself to actually sit on Draco's lap and ground his hips into Draco's, feeling an erection pressing back into his own. Both boys groaned at the friction.

Harry had just pulled away from the kiss and begun to work on Draco's neck when –

"Wait," Draco gasped. "Wait. Not here."

Harry ignored him and took one of Draco's earlobes into his mouth. Draco groaned again, but pushed Harry away.

"Seriously," he said, breathing heavily. "We can't do this here, what if someone sees us?"

That had been the last thing on Harry's mind, but Draco did have a point. What if a professor walked had around the corner and seen Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy making out against a wall? Or worse, what if Ron had seen them?

"Besides," Draco continued, "I can't have _you_ sitting on _me_ , now can I? A Malfoy always has the upper hand." Draco cupped Harry's chin in his hands and kissed him again. "Don't worry," he said. "Go get that invisibility cloak of yours and meet me back here. I'll sneak you into my room."

* * *

 _You are the hope I have for change_   
_You are the only chance I'll take_

* * *

Harry's legs couldn't carry him fast enough. He sprinted back to Gryffindor tower, nearly ploughing a group of fourth years and completely ignoring the "Where're you going?" from Ron as he ran past him. He grabbed his cloak from under his bed and dashed back out of the common room without a word to a bewildered looking Ron. He made it back to the fourth floor corridor in what he thought must be record time. Draco was leaning casually against the wall and laughed when he saw Harry sprinting up the corridor.

"Eager, are we?" he joked as Harry stopped in front of him, breathing heavily.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry smiled and pulled Draco close to him.

"That's not very –" Draco started to say, but Harry silenced him with a kiss. It became deep and dizzy and passionate quickly, before Draco pushed Harry away again.

Harry growled in frustration. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Draco smiled. "Because we need to continue this in a place where we can actually finish it," he whispered silkily in Harry's ear, sending shivers down Harry's spine.

Draco took the invisibility cloak and draped it over Harry. He then took Harry's hand and led him down three flights of stairs to the dungeons.

"I'll go in first," Draco said when they reached a portrait of a snake Harry knew was the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories. "If the coast is clear I'll come back for you," Draco continued.

Harry nodded eagerly, then said "okay" in a soft voice when he realized Draco couldn't see him. Draco whispered the password and climbed through the portrait hole. Harry waited for a few minutes, all the while his insides churning with excitement and nervousness about what they might do once Draco snuck him in.

The portrait hole opened and Draco stuck his head out. "All clear," he said smiling, and groped around to pull the cloak off of Harry before helping him through the hole. They went up a winding stone staircase similar to the one in Gryffindor tower, and into Draco's dormitory.

"You have your own room?" Harry asked in surprise as they entered it. It was about the size of Harry's dormitory but with a great stone fireplace, a soft looking armchair, a large elaborately carved armoire, a slightly ajar door Harry assumed must be a private bathroom, and only one, huge four poster bed.

"Perks of being a Slytherin prefect," Draco said smugly.

Harry's jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

Draco nodded. "I guess the other founders felt humbleness and modesty were more important virtues than Slytherin did."

"Well you certainly aren't either of those things," Harry joked, giving Draco a playful shove.

Draco smiled. "Sorry it's not tidier," he added, gesturing around. "If I'd known we were –"

"Its fine," Harry said quickly.

"Well …" Draco said, once again sounding as uncertain as Harry felt.

"Yeah …" Harry said slowly.

Draco moved closer suddenly and Harry felt Draco lips press slowly into his own. Harry leaned into the kiss, his knees buckling as Draco's hand slid down Harry's back and Harry felt Draco's arousal pressing into his thigh. They kissed passionately and desperately for what felt like hours and just when Harry had been sure he must have died and gone to heaven, Draco pulled away.

"Wha …" Harry protested, but Draco shushed him with a quick kiss, before moving toward his bed and sitting down.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, breathing heavily.

Draco raised his eyebrows, probably more seductively than he realized. "Why don't you come over here and find out?" he whispered.

Harry licked his lips hungrily and began to move toward the bed when he heard a sharp knocking noise followed by what could only be the horrible sound of door hinges. Draco and Harry both jumped as the door swung open suddenly. The boy who Harry dimly recognized as Blaise Zabini walked in, looking at what seemed to be a newspaper clipping.

"God, Drake, you'll never guess what my owl just brought –" He stopped short as he took in the scene before him, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. "Drake…" he said slowly, "What –"

"Ok, fine, Potter!" Draco spat suddenly, standing up. "Your dorm is cleaner than mine. You win. Now get the hell out of my room!"

Harry was shocked for a moment, then realized that Draco was trying to cover up for why Harry was there. Harry tried his best to mirror Draco's sneer. "I can't wait. It's disgusting in here. Then again, what else did I expect, seeing as it's _your_ room?"

Harry left the room briskly and ran as fast as he could from the Slytherin common room as soon as the door closed behind him. Once outside the portrait hole he collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily with relief. Harry silently thanked every god he could think of that Zabini had walked in when he did and not a minute earlier. Or worse – a minute later.

Just then the portrait hole opened and Draco stepped out, bursting into laughter the minute the picture swung back against the wall.

"He bought it!" Draco snorted, leaning against the wall for support. "I told him I'd bumped into you in the hall and you'd bet me that your dorm was cleaner than mine, which is why you were in our room, and the dumbass actually believed me!"

Harry smiled weakly.

"I can't believe it." Draco shook his head, his cheeks flushed. "That was the worst excuse I've ever come up with in my life! I was positive we were dead meat, but that idiot actually bought it!" He glanced at Harry. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry shook his head. "I'm just relieved he walked in when he did, instead of ... well …" He trailed off, shrugging.

Draco nodded. "Oh man, me too." He shook his head in relief.

"So …" Harry started, not quite sure how to word what to he wanted to say.

"So what?"

"So are we going to talk about what we almost did in there?"

Draco exhaled, and his eyes widened in realization. "Oh god," he breathed. "You're right." He looked sideways at Harry. "Would we have had … you know?" he asked, sounding halfway between excited and terrified. "I mean, if I'd been ok with it, would you have done it?"

Harry bit his lip, and tried not to look at Draco. "I don't know."

Draco nodded slowly, now looking more scared than excited.

"You wouldn't have been ok with it, would you?" Harry said flatly, even though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Draco shook his head slowly. "I don't know."

"Meaning what?"

Draco sighed. "Meaning that in the moment I wanted to, but now …"

"Well than what _do_ you want Draco?" Harry exploded. "I mean, when we kissed on the steps a few weeks ago you told me you weren't gay, and I believed you. Then you asked me to come up to the Astronomy Tower so that you could tell me again that you were strait, and again I believed you. Then earlier today you completely flipped out when the subject of you being gay came up again, but then two minutes later we were making out against a goddamn wall! Then you snuck me into your room to, in your own words, 'finish we had started'. And now you're going to tell me _again_ that you aren't gay?"

"I haven't told you I'm not gay this time," Draco said quietly.

Harry stopped pacing. "Meaning that you are?"

"No, meaning that I don't know!" Draco said, exasperated. "Look, I like you, ok? I do. And I know that probably makes me gay, but the reason I'm not saying I am is because I'm not attracted to guys in general. I'm only attracted to you. I'm just so confused about this whole thing, and …" Draco took a deep breath. "What I mean is that I don't want you to think I don't like you that way, because I do, Harry. I really do. This is all just happening so fast, and … I don't know. I don't know what else to say."

Harry looked into Draco's mesmerizing eyes as he let what Draco had just said sink in. "You like me?" he asked quietly, hardly daring to believe it could be true.

"Of course I do." Draco took Harry's hand and Harry let himself be pulled closer to the other boy. Draco brushed the hair lovingly out of Harry's eyes before placing a light kiss on Harry's lips.

"I didn't want to at first," Draco admitted. "But I couldn't help it. You're just so damn hot."

Harry stared. "You think I'm _hot_?"

"Me and half the school."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Really?"

"You didn't know?" Draco laughed.

Harry shook his head.

"Oh believe me, there are plenty of girls at this school who would give their right arm to be me right now. But I have a feeling I would've eventually fallen for you anyway," Draco said, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist.

Harry smiled. "You mean if I was ugly?"

Draco laughed. "Well you're not, so it doesn't really matter."

"So what are we going to do about this?" Harry sighed.

"I don't know. Are you going to be like … my boyfriend?"

Harry felt his breath hitch in his chest. "If that's what you want," he said breathlessly.

Draco bit his lip thoughtfully. "I think it is," he said after a moment.

Harry's stomach twisted and his lungs felt tight and constricted. "So … so we're really going to do this?"

Draco exhaled as if to calm himself. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, we are. Can I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

"Can we …" Draco bit his lip again. "Can we not tell anyone? Not that I'm, you know, ashamed of you or anything. It's just that it's you, and it's me, and –"

"I know," Harry cut him off. "I don't think my friends could handle it either. And it's not like either of us needs anything more to deal with right now."

Draco smiled. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

Harry smiled back and pulled Draco closer; breathing in the other boy's intoxicating sent. "Me too," he whispered into Draco's lips before capturing Draco's mouth with his own. Harry couldn't believe his luck. He sank deliriously into the warm embrace, his knees weakening at the feeling of Draco's tongue against his. He felt truly happy for the first time in a long time. For the first time in his life he didn't wish he was someone else. He realized with a jolt that for the first time ever he was completely happy with being Harry.

* * *

 _I'm on fire when you're near me_

 _And I'm on fire when you speak_

* * *


	3. Sympathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and lyrics are from the song 'Sympathy' by The Goo Goo Dolls.

Harry awoke the next morning with a huge smile on his face, although he was momentarily unable to remember why. It all came rushing back to him after a second, though, and nothing else had ever seemed so important in his life.

Harry heard the sound of his bed curtains being drawn open and rolled over to find Ron peering down at him.

"Why do you look so happy?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Harry sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. "No reason," he said shaking his head, "I just had a good dream."

"Well hurry up and get ready, we're going to be late for Charms." Ron left the room, still throwing apprehensive glances at Harry over his shoulder.

Harry collapsed onto his bed again, grinning uncontrollably into his pillow. He forced himself to get up and throw on a wrinkly pair of robes he dug out from under his bed. He met Ron and Hermione in the common a few minutes later. After a disapproving 'Tuh' from Hermione at the state of Harry's appearance, the three of them made their way to the Charms classroom. Harry barely managed to contain his glee.

It wasn't until they were halfway there that Harry felt eyes on him. He looked around to find the entire crowded hallway staring directly at him, some of them even whispering and pointing.

"Do I have something on my face?" Harry asked warily.

Ron looked at him for a second. "No. Why?"

"People are staring at me," Harry muttered.

"People always stare are you," Hermione said distantly, rummaging through her bag.

"More than usual, I mean," Harry looked behind him and was greeted with the gawking stares of a group of third years following closely behind him.

Hermione glanced around. "I don't see anything. You're probably just imagining things." She shrugged and went back to digging through her bag.

Harry looked around again, and suddenly no one was looking at him anymore. A few glanced at him briefly, but went back to their conversations quickly. Harry frowned. He had been so sure people had been watching him. _Maybe Hermione's right_ , _maybe I am imagining things,_ he thought dully. He shook his head sharply to clear it and continued to make his way to class, still finding it hard to clear his mind of all those gaping faces.

But it happened again. Every time Harry entered or left a room all day he was met with leering eyes. A quiet buzz of whispers like wind in a tall field of grass followed him where ever he went. There were only a few times in his life at Hogwarts he could remember having been watched so closely and every time it had meant the school knew something about him that they shouldn't. With this thought troubling him, by dinner time Harry had become seriously paranoid. He had resorted to taking long detours to avoid crowed corridors and several times he was positive he saw Rita Skeeter peering at him from behind a tapestry or around a corner, Quick-Quotes-Quill in hand.

He left dinner early, unable to take the staring anymore, and ran out into the grounds. He hurried over to a clump of tall bushes by the Quidditch pitch with the intention to hide for a while, and ran headlong into Draco.

"That's the second time you've done that, you know," Draco said from the ground.

Harry smiled wearily and helped Draco to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

Draco didn't meet Harry's eyes. "Nothing," he said unconvincingly. "I just wasn't hungry."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So you're hiding in a bush?"

"Well, why are you here?" Draco said, a note of defensiveness in his voice.

Harry sighed. "People have been staring at me all day and I don't know why!" he cried. "I thought I'd sit out here for a while. I couldn't take it anymore."

"Oh." Draco turned pink.

"What?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Well …" Draco was now wringing his hands nervously and still wouldn't look directly at Harry. "I … I know …"

" _What_?" Harry said impatiently.

"I know why they're staring at you," Draco said, now quite red.

"Why?"

"Well …" Draco took a deep breath before continuing. "Please don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to do it, I swear. I didn't know it would get out like this, and I wouldn't have, you know, if I had known." He looked nervously into Harry's eyes.

"What did you do?" Harry said quietly, terrified that he already knew the answer.

"Itolpaneyboutusansetolwhoesco," Draco mumbled.

"You what?"

Draco took another deep breath. "I told Pansy about … us … and she kinda told …"

"The whole _school_?" Harry exploded.

Draco nodded miserably. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't know she was going to tell people, I swear. She promised that she wouldn't."

"Why would you tell her in the first place, even if you didn't think she'd tell anyone else?" Harry exclaimed. "I thought we agreed not to tell anybody! I haven't told any of _my_ friends, you know. Even though I've practically never kept anything from Hermione in my life."

"I'm sorry," Draco said again. "I tried to keep it a secret, but I was just so happy about us. It was killing me that I couldn't tell anyone! Besides, I'm no good at keeping secrets anyway. I didn't mean to tell her, it just kinda slipped out."

Harry gaped at him. It all made sense now. That's what everyone knew! That was why people had been staring at him and whispering around him all day! He covered his face with his hands in horror. "Oh my _god_ , Draco!" he cried, throwing his hands down.

Draco flinched at the sudden outburst and drew away from Harry.

"Fuck!" Harry said, louder that he had meant to.

Draco's mouth fell open. "I … you've never done that before …"

"Done what?" Harry snapped.

"Said that word."

" _That's_ what you're thinking about right now?" Harry yelled in disbelief.

Draco stared at the ground wordlessly.

"How _could_ you?" Harry continued angrily. "Everyone knows! The whole school! The whole fucking school!" he yelled. "They're all talking about us! They're all in there right now, ecstatically gossiping about how their fucking famous Harry Potter is a fucking homosexual! _And_ that I'm screwing no less than Draco Fucking Malfoy!"

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Draco said quietly, his eyes very red. "I don't know what else to say."

"There's nothing you can say!" Harry yelled, furious. "We promised we wouldn't tell anyone! I keep _my_ promises! What have _you_ done today?"

He turned and stormed back the castle, and barely heard Draco calling his name.

* * *

 _It's' hard to lead the life you choose_

 _When all your luck's run out on you_

* * *

Harry lay on his back in bed, the curtains drawn around him. He had no idea what time it was. His stomach was growling like crazy, obviously angry with him for skipping dinner. He hadn't spoken to anyone since Draco and he wouldn't be surprised if he never spoke again. He had never been so horrified in his life. His whole body burned with searing embarrassment. He couldn't believe everyone knew. He cared a lot for Draco, but this was all so new to him and he hadn't been even close to ready for people to know. He was still getting over the shock of realizing that he was gay, and the even bigger shock of realizing that he had feelings for Draco Malfoy, of all people. And now he had this to deal with. He was terrified of how Ron and Hermione would react when they found out. And what about the teachers? He remembered with a jolt how close Draco had always been with Snape, and he wondered how angry Snape would be when he found out. Harry thought his head might be in danger of exploding as he wondered if the rumors had reached Dumbledore. He could feel in the pit of his stomach that if they hadn't already they would somehow. Would Dumbledore believe them? What if he did? Harry's stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

He rolled over to face the wall and kicked it in frustration. He suddenly remembered with a sinking feeling how horrible he had been to Draco on the grounds. The sight of Draco flinching after Harry had yelled was playing over and over in Harry's head. Harry face grew hot with guilt as he remembered the frightened look on Draco's face, and wondered hazily if Draco was afraid of him. He could barely stand the thought. He didn't know how people like Snape did it. It was a terrible feeling to know someone was afraid of you. Harry still couldn't believe Draco had been so careless, but when he really thought about it they had been almost caught several times already. It had only been a matter of time until someone found out. Their secret was bound to get out sooner or later. Harry's insides twisted with guilt as he remembered how he'd reacted when Draco told him what he had done. Harry was still angry, but inside he knew Draco really was sorry. And with the resolve to fix things between them in the morning, Harry drifted into a patchy and uncomfortable sleep, still unable to get the image of all those scathing eyes from his mind.

* * *

 _And all my fears have pushed you out_

* * *

Harry found Draco sitting on the steps of the castle early the next morning, absentmindedly tearing a leaf into shreds. His shoulders were hunched over and his hair was messy. Harry had never seen the usually poised and composed boy so disheveled. He hovered near the door for a moment, trying to convince himself not to leave before Draco noticed him. But after a few minutes he moved over towards Draco and sat down silently. Draco didn't say anything, but Harry saw him tense up as he noticed Harry. Again Harry's face burned with guilt.

"Hi," Harry whispered.

"Hi," Draco said, looking at his hands.

"I don't really know what to say. I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

Draco looked up finally. "For what?"

"For how I treated you yesterday. Look, I overreacted and yelled at you when it wasn't only you that I was mad at, and –"

" _You're_ apologizing to _me_?" Draco said incredulously. "Why?"

"Because I acted like a total jerk. I didn't mean to get so mad at you," Harry said quietly. "I'm really sorry."

Draco nodded. "Me too."

"I know."

"I … I didn't expect to see you …" Draco said, flushing slightly. "I look terrible."

Draco lifted his hand to try to smooth his hair, but Harry pulled Draco's hand down. "You look fine."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You have awful taste if you think I look good right now, Potter," he said, elbowing Harry playfully. He shifted a bit closer and leaned on Harry's shoulder.

Harry smiled. Knowing he was forgiven, he kissed the top of Draco's head lightly and wrapped his arms around the blond boy. He closed his eyes and breathed in the sent of Draco's hair. It smelled like soap and vanilla.

"So what are we going to do?" Draco asked softly.

"I don't know," Harry exhaled and rested his chin on Draco's head.

"Have you talked to Ron and Hermione about this yet?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't seen them since yesterday."

Draco sat up. "You have to tell them."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "But I can't. I don't know what to say."

"Tell them the truth."

Harry stood up and walked over to the railing. He leaned on it, sighing. "What if they –"

"No, don't do that." Draco stood up too and joined Harry at the railing. "If you worry about all the 'what ifs' you'll never tell them. You told me you've never kept anything from Hermione in your life. How can you keep something like this from them? Don't you think they'd want to know? They're your best friends."

Harry sighed again. "I hate it when you're right."

Draco smiled wickedly and moved behind Harry. He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Get used to it."

Harry laughed. "I suppose I'll have to."

"What's it like?" Draco asked quietly.

"What?"

"To have someone care about you that much."

Harry smiled. "It's … it's the best feeling in the world. Especially since for the first ten years of my life the three closest people to me would've been happy if I died. I could spend the rest of my life trying to repay them for everything they've done for me and I still wouldn't ever come close. They'd do anything for me. They care about me so much. Especially Hermione, her life is about a hundred times more stressful than it should be because she spends more that half of it worrying about me."

"I wish I had friends like that," Draco said quietly.

Harry turned slightly and pressed a kiss into Draco's temple. "You have me," he said simply.

Harry felt Draco's mouth start to kiss his neck. He sighed happily as Draco found a sensitive spot. Draco's hands found their way to Harry's waistline and slipped under Harry's shirt.

"I love this neck …" Draco murmured into Harry's collarbone.

"No …" Harry said hazily. "Not here."

Draco looked up. "What?"

"Just because everyone knows about us doesn't mean we should give them a live show on the steps of the castle." He turned around to face Draco, who was pouting playfully. "I have to talk to Ron and Hermione, remember? We'll finish later, I promise," he whispered seductively into Draco's lips.

"I'll be waiting," Draco purred. "The school will have gotten bored of the fact that we're seeing each other by now. Maybe tonight we give them something new to talk about."

* * *

 _I wished for things that I don't need_

 _And what I chase won't set me free_

* * *

Harry found Ron and Hermione sitting at a table in the common room. Hermione had her nose buried in a book, as usual. Ron was staring absentmindedly into the fireplace, the homework that lay strewn about in front of him apparently forgotten. Harry hovered by the stairs for a moment, trying to force himself not to run away. He wasn't worried about Hermione. She'd be politely surprised but supportive. She always was. It was Ron he was anxious about telling. On one hand, Ron could just smile and say there was nothing wrong with being gay and why didn't Harry tell them sooner? But on the other hand…Harry shook the thought from his mind. He supposed he really must care a lot about Draco to be willing to risk his friendship with Ron for him. Harry took a deep breath and forced his legs to carry him toward the table where his friends sat. His heart was beating almost painfully against his ribcage and he felt on the verge of vomiting. But, concentrating on how great it would feel to have Ron and Hermione be okay with him and Draco, he somehow kept walking.

"Hi Harry," Hermione said from behind her book as Harry approached the table.

"Hi," Harry managed to choke out.

Ron looked around at him curiously. "Well sit down," he said.

Harry sat slowly, afraid any sudden movements would set off his gag reflex.

"What's up?" Hermione said into her book.

"I need to talk to you," Harry blurted out. He knew if he didn't tell them right away he probably never would.

Hermione seemed to sense the seriousness of the situation from the tone of Harry's voice. She put her book down slowly and peered at Harry from across the table. "What's wrong?"

Harry tried to speak, but the words got caught in the lump in his throat. He swallowed and took another deep breath before continuing. "You haven't heard anyone saying anything … odd about me lately, have you?" he asked in a would-be-casual voice.

"Yeah –" Ron started to say, but was silenced by a look from Hermione. He looked quickly at the ground. "… No," he said, unconvincingly.

Harry's heart sunk. They had heard. Worse, they had been trying to keep it from Harry. Probably hoping the gossip would die out before Harry ever found out what people were saying.

"You have, then," Harry said quietly.

Ron and Hermione said nothing but Ron's ears flushed and Hermione shifted and averted her eyes. Harry's cheeks burned, but he forced himself to continue. "What have you heard?"

"Oh nothing, Harry. Just silly rumors," Hermione said in a slightly strained voice. She began to rearrange her books matter-of-factly.

"What did you hear?" Harry asked again, hoping the tone of his voice let them know that he was not in the mood to be lied to.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other warily before Hermione spoke slowly. "Well a few people have been saying … just a few people, mind you … have been saying that … now remember, Harry, these are just childish people who have nothing better to do than make up stories about other people …"

"Just tell him, Hermione," Ron sighed. "He probably would've found out eventually anyway."

Hermione swallowed and glanced at the ceiling briefly before continuing. "Well people have been saying that … that you and … and Malfoy are … are …"

"Secretly dating?" Harry suggested before he could stop himself.

Ron and Hermione both looked surprised but relieved.

"Stupid, huh? Where the hell would they have gotten something like that? As if you and Malfoy would be secretly dating," Ron laughed. "So you'd heard people saying that too?"

"No," Harry said quietly.

"What?"

"I hadn't heard anybody say anything."

Ron looked puzzled. "Then how did you know what they'd been saying – ?" He stopped short, a look of dawning comprehension on his face.

Hermione had let her mouth fall slightly open, her eyes wide. "It's _true_?" she gasped, one hand going to cover her open mouth.

Harry shut his eyes and nodded, not wanting to see their immediate reactions. When he opened his eyes a moment later Ron and Hermione sat, stunned, in their chairs. Ron was expressionless and quite green; Hermione completely frozen and not blinking. Harry buried his face in his hands, feeling the weight of everything finally collapsing down on him. His head felt like lead and he felt as sick as Ron looked. The silence was killing him.

"Please say something," he whispered finally.

"I … I …" Hermione opened and closed her mouth helplessly.

"You're secretly dating Malfoy?" Ron said in a dangerously quiet voice. " _Malfoy_?'

"Well, I guess it's not exactly a secret anymore," Harry said unhappily. "But yes."

"No," Ron said shaking his head. "No, that's not possible. You can't be going out with _Malfoy_. How could you be going out with Malfoy? You hate him. Plus," he barreled on before Harry had a chance to say anything, "Malfoy is a guy. He's a _guy_ , Harry, so if you were dating him that would mean that you would have to be …"

Harry nodded.

Ron gaped at him for a moment and then recoiled in horror. "You're _gay_?"

"Ron, shh," Harry hissed as the other people in the common room looked around to see the source of the noise.

"No, I won't!" Ron yelled indignantly, jumping out of his chair. "You're _gay_? As in you like _men_? And you slept just one bed away from me every night for almost seven years! All this time I thought nothing of it, but you could've just –" he broke off, obviously not wanting to think about what Harry could've done to him.

Harry's stomach tightened at Ron's words. "Ron, I never would've done anything to you!" he said, tears prickling his eyes. "That's sick, how could you even think that?"

"Well how am I supposed to know?" Ron said, backing away from the table where Hermione still sat, glancing back and forth between them and mouthing wordlessly. "Two minutes ago I thought you were … and now I find out that you're … and with _Malfoy_? I can't believe this! I thought you were my best friend! I thought I knew you!"

"Ron, please," Harry whispered desperately.

"No!" Ron shouted. "Who are you? I don't even know who you are! Let me know when my best friend comes back!" He turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs to the dormitories, knocking over his chair as he went.

Most of the common room was now looking in their direction, but Harry barely noticed. He put a hand to his mouth, his eyes burning. Hermione stared at Harry silently.

"Please say something," Harry whispered, his voice wavering.

Hermione just gulped and continued to gaze at him, obviously dumbfounded.

"God, _please_ say _something_ ," Harry begged, his eyes so hot he thought they might burn holes in the table.

Hermione got up slowly, her eyes still wide. She took Harry's hand gently and led Harry out of the common room and into the corridor opposite the portrait hole. She stopped them in the middle of the hallway and enveloped Harry in a hug.

"Ron isn't really mad at you," she said quietly into Harry's neck, as if sensing what he had been thinking. "He's just shocked. This is a lot to swallow. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I don't really know what happened," Harry said. "It's all such a blur. We had this detention together a while back, and then we kinda became friends. And then it sort of moved into more."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "How long have you been friends?"

"A little over a month I guess," Harry shrugged, collapsing against the wall and sinking down to the floor.

Hermione's eyes widened. "A _month_? You've been secretly friends with _Malfoy_ for over a _month_ and you never told us?"

"Would you have believed me if I did?"

"Well … no, I suppose not," Hermione admitted, sitting down beside him. "But you still could've told us."

"And what good would that have done anybody?" Harry said. "So Ron could've gotten mad at me sooner?"

"Because I should've been there for you!" Hermione cried suddenly, as if she'd only just realized it. "I should've been there to hug you and say 'I still love you,' and 'This doesn't change anything', and 'You're still the same person', and all those things a best friend is supposed to say in this situation! Things I'm sure you needed to hear, which would've been obvious to me if I were any kind of best friend at all – "

"Hermione stop!" Harry cut in. "Don't say that, you're an amazing best friend. You're the only person in the world who's always stood by me not matter what."

"But I haven't!" Hermione said shrilly. "Do you want to know the worst part? I knew it. I did! I _knew_ something was different about you, I could see it in your eyes these last couple weeks. I knew something was wrong. And I didn't do anything about it. I could tell you needed me, and I did _nothing_."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't need you though. I wanted to at first, but in the end it was better that I didn't have you. This was something I needed to do on my own."

"So … so you really are …" Hermione trailed off, as if she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Harry sighed. "I'm really not completely sure. I mean I guess I must be, considering … I haven't really figured things out yet."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "This is just so … not weird … unexpected."

Harry laughed in spite of himself. "Believe me, I'm the last one who expected this. I wish people hadn't found out so soon," Harry continued bitterly. "As if I didn't already have enough to deal with."

Hermione nodded again, this time blinking away tears.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, confused.

"I just feel so awful for you," Hermione whispered, leaning her head on Harry's shoulder. "This must be so hard. Whatever you need, Harry, we'll be there. Ron too," she said tearfully into Harry's neck. "If you need to talk, or if you need us to take your mind off it, or whatever. Promise.'

"Thanks," Harry smiled. "… I need to see Draco. He's been waiting for me."

Hermione nodded and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be here when you get back."

* * *

 _I'm not sure where I belong_

 _No where's home and I'm all wrong_

* * *

Harry felt Draco grab his arm before he had fully entered the room. "Did you tell them?"

"Yep," Harry mumbled.

"And?"

Harry exhaled heavily. "It's not like it was the first time they'd heard it," he said, not quite ready to let Draco off the hook yet. "The whole school knows thanks to your stupid friend Parkinson."

Draco bit his lip. "I'm so sorry I told her, you know that. I thought I could trust her. I couldn't tell Crabbe and Goyle, they'd never respect me again, but I had to tell someone. I can't keep secrets, it was killing me … that's no excuse. How did they take it? Were they upset?"

Harry sighed again and flopped onto Draco's bed. "Ron was. He said he hadn't believed the rumors when he heard them. Said he even told people it wasn't true."

"What did he do?"

"He yelled. He's really mad. He actually accused me of being gay all along and doing stuff to him in his sleep."

Draco stared. " _What_? You would never do that!"

" _I_ know that. But apparently he doesn't. I don't know if he's more upset that I'm gay or that I'm with you, but he's not speaking to me either way."

Draco sat down next to Harry. "And Hermione?"

Harry half smiled. "She was more shocked than upset. I'm not surprised, considering how often I've made her listen to me rant about how much I hate you. But at least she still likes me. I just … I just wish you and me could have waited until we were out of Hogwarts."

Draco put a hand on Harry's and squeezed. "I know. Me too. Its horrible timing."

Harry's eyes prickled again. "… All I ever wanted was to be normal. When I was little I had this scar and these weird powers I couldn't explain, and I would've given anything to be just like the other boys. Then I came to Hogwarts and I was this … hero, this … celebrity. For something I don't even remember, something I didn't even do! And then there was the whole Triwizard fiasco, and battling Voldemort at the ministry. Most of my life has been spent wishing I could have just one day where nobody stared at me, nobody thought I was weird or special. And now this."

Harry glanced up and spotted a copy of the Daily Prophet on Draco's desk. "Oh god," he groaned, putting his face in his hands, "just wait until the press finds out! 'Breaking news flash! The Boy Who Lived comes out of the closet, and his lover is the son of a Death Eater!' The Prophet's going to have a field day with this one."

Harry's whole body was shaking uncontrollably and he felt like he was about to split in two. He had never felt this much pain in his whole life. The last time Ron wouldn't speak to him didn't even come close. That time Ron had definitely been mad, but nowhere near as mad as he was now. Harry had gotten the impression that Ron was scared of Harry now that he knew. And even worse – that he didn't trust Harry anymore. Harry chest twisted horribly at the thought of Ron never trusting him again.

"It'll all work out," Draco said quietly. "They're your best friends. Everything will work itself out in time."

"Ron's not my best friend," Harry said irritably.

"Yes he is," Draco said imploringly. "He's not being a very good friend right now, but he is still your friend. You wouldn't be so upset right now if he wasn't."

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "How did your friends take it?"

Draco snorted derisively. "No better then yours. No one in Slytherin has spoken to me since yesterday. Blaise won't even look at me."

Harry's chest tightened. "That's horrible."

Draco gave Harry an 'I'm going to grin and bear it' kind of half-smile. "I don't care about Slytherin not talking to me, that won't last long. Even after this whole thing I'm still better then the lot of them, and they all know it," he said smugly as Harry laughed weakly, "And as for Blaise … well, I would definitely rather he was speaking to me, but I don't really care all that much."

"Why?"

"Because …" Draco hesitated. "Well, because if I had to choose between having my best friend back and being with you, I would choose you," he said, blushing faintly.

Harry stared at him, amazed.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Draco whispered again. He kissed the top of Harry's head lightly. "I swear, I would never have told her if I thought she'd tell people."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be. It's my fault," Draco said quietly. "Are we crazy here?"

Harry looked up. "You mean for thinking this could work?"

"Yeah."

Harry exhaled deeply. "Maybe," he mumbled after a moment. "Do you think we should break up?"

"Probably," Draco said, nodding stoically, but not quite managing to not look as miserable as Harry felt. "We are on different sides of what's going to ultimately be a war. We both knew this wouldn't last."

"We don't have to be on different sides," Harry pointed out quietly.

Draco sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, we do. We've been over this," he said firmly.

"If … if things were different …" Harry started tentatively.

"No, please don't," Draco said, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. "That doesn't help anybody, because things aren't different."

"I don't want to break up," Harry said. "What if we just … forget about everything that's keeping us apart? Just for now, just until really matters."

"It puts you in more danger than it does me," Draco said quietly. "If you want to … I mean if you're really willing to risk it..."

"Well, that's what you do when you lo – … when you care about someone," Harry finished, blushing as he realized what he'd almost said. He was pretty sure he did love Draco, but he wasn't quite ready for Draco to know that.

Luckily Draco didn't notice. He just smiled in astonishment, whispered "You're amazing", and kissed Harry deeply.

Harry let Draco's tongue slip into his mouth and felt a shared moan vibrate between them. Draco stood up for a second, and then sat back down straddling Harry's lap, never breaking the kiss. Draco's hands moved to Harry's waist and pulled his shirt up slowly, breaking the kiss for only a moment to pull the shirt over Harry's head. Harry moaned again as Draco's hands fluttered down Harry's bare abdomen. Harry sighed happily as he leaned back and let Draco ravish his neck and chest. Draco sucked and bit at Harry for a good five minutes before Harry pushed him away.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I can't let you do all the work," Harry whispered seductively, rolling them over so he sat on top of Draco. He began to ravish Draco's neck in turn. Harry's hands slid slowly up Draco's shirt and let his fingers ghost across Draco's chest. His hands stopped when he reached a bump.

"What's that?" he asked slowly, tracing it with his fingers.

Draco pushed Harry's hand away. "Nothing, nothing. Just a scar, I … uh … fell down, when I was little."

Harry raised his eyebrows and pushed Draco's shirt up. Three thin white scars stared back at him, stretched across Draco's otherwise smooth chest.

"What are those fr –" Harry's breath hitched suddenly as the truth hit him like a ton of bricks. "Sectumsempra …" he breathed, as Draco tried to push his shirt back down. "I … I did this to you?" Harry asked, mortified.

"Don't worry about it …" Draco said awkwardly.

Harry's horrified eyes followed the scars. His grew face hot and his stomach churned as the memory of that day in the bathroom flashed before him. "I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Draco shook his head. "Don't be. It's not like I wasn't trying to do the same or worse to you."

Harry didn't hear him. He couldn't take his eyes off the horrible reminders of what he'd done. He pulled Draco's shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then kissed his way along each of the scars. Harry lifted his head back up and pressed his lips softly into Draco's, smiling as he felt Draco hardening against his leg.

"Forgive me?" he murmured softly into Draco's lips.

"Anything," Draco whispered back, pressing his hips eagerly into Harry's.

Harry broke the kiss and took a moment to stare hungrily at the boy beneath him.

Draco twitched. He squinted up at Harry, and then shook his head sharply, as if to clear it. "No …" he mumbled, in a shaky voice.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Draco pushed Harry off and jumped up suddenly, his breathing suddenly fast and shallow. "I can't …"

"Draco? Are you ok?" Harry said. "You can't what?"

"I just can't!"

Harry didn't know what to say. Draco had gone as white as a sheet, his eyes were racing, and Harry got the distinct impression that he'd had gone into some kind of hallucination. "Draco, what's wrong?"

"I – I just …" Draco spluttered. "Can't … I thought I could do this ... I'm sorry …"

Draco turned sharply and left without a word.

"Draco!" Harry called after him, but the other boy didn't return, leaving Harry standing alone in the room, a horrible mixture of scared, confused, and worried.

* * *

 _I'm killing myself from the inside out_

 _And now my head's been filled with doubt_

* * *

Harry made his way slowly back to Gryffindor tower late that night, still in a state of hazy confusion. He had never seen someone switch from content to scared so quickly, especially since nothing had happened that would scare Draco, as far as Harry could tell.

Harry figured it must be very late. The common room was empty and the fire had burned itself out so that just faintly glowing red embers were left, casting dull shadows onto a sleeping figure at a table in the back corner of the room. Harry sat down in a chair by the dying fire. Where was he going to sleep? Now that he thought about it he couldn't sleep in his dormitory – Ron would have told the others that Harry was gay by now, and Harry was sure none of them would let him sleep in their room. Harry stared into the embers. He couldn't believe what a complete mess this had all turned in to.

A loud crash from behind him roused him out of the stupor he had sunk into. He jumped up and looked frantically around to see what had caused the noise.

"Ow," a small voice commented from the back corner of the room – the sleeping person had apparently fallen out of their chair.

Harry squinted through the darkness warily, backing away in case it was someone who wouldn't be happy to see him. However – "Hermione?"

"Harry?" Hermione answered through the darkness.

"Hermione, are you ok?" Harry cried, rushing over to where she lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, her robes and books tangled around her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, helping her up.

"I was waiting for you," she said shakily, gathering her books together. "I guess I fell asleep. So how did it go?"

Harry sighed. "Not so good."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, her face full of concern. "Why are you back so late? You … you two weren't … you know …"

Harry felt himself blush, and watched Hermione's mouth fall open.

"You _were_?" she squeaked, dropping her books again. "You _did_?"

"No, no," Harry said quickly. "We … we were just kissing … but then suddenly Draco freaked out. He jumped up all scared, and kept saying 'no', and 'I can't' and then he just ran out of the room."

Hermione frowned. "No what?"

"I don't know!" Harry collapsed into a chair. "He just kept saying 'I can't', it was like he was having some kind of hallucination, like … like he thought I was someone else. He looked really scared, Hermione. I don't know what to do."

Hermione sat down beside Harry, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound good."

Harry shook his head. "The only thing I can think of is that he freaked out at the last minute about what we were doing."

"Does he trust you?"

Harry sighed, defeated. "I don't know. I thought so, but now …"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know what to tell you. Get some sleep and hopefully things will look better tomorrow."

Harry smiled weakly. "Original."

* * *

 _I wasn't all the things I tried to make believe I was_

* * *

Harry shuffled around the next day with a horribly cloudy feeling deep in his chest. He felt the world crash around him like an avalanche and felt himself being buried deeper as the day went on. He held in tears with everything he had in him as he moved silently from class to class, and finally worked up the courage to corner Draco in the hallway after Transfiguration.

"Stop! I want to talk to you!"

"No." Draco pushed past Harry without looking at him.

"Draco, please! I want to know what's going on, I _deserve_ to know what's going on!" Harry said, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

Draco didn't respond, but Harry saw his face cloud over and his cheeks flush slightly.

"So that's just it then, is it?" Harry's voice cracked painfully. "Everything that we said, everything we _felt_? None of that meant anything to you?"

Draco looked up at him slowly, sadness creeping into stone colored eyes. "Of course it did," he said in a devastated voice. "How could you even think that?"

"Because you won't talk to me," Harry said softly, slipping his hand into Draco's and wishing he'd never have to let go. "Do you have any idea how freaked out I've been? Do you have any idea how much it physically hurts to think that this might be my fault?"

"… I'm so sorry," Draco whispered.

"So then talk to me!"

"I _can't_ , Harry, I just … can't … please, just let me go," Draco pulled his hand back gently, and Harry couldn't bring himself to fight him. The blond boy walked away slowly, and was halfway down the corridor before Harry could find words to say.

"You can't hide forever, Draco!" Harry called after him. Draco stopped abruptly, but didn't turn around. "The faster you run the sooner things will catch up to you. Believe me, I know. Eventually you're going to have to face whatever it is you're running from, whether you want to or not."

Draco walked quickly down the rest of the hall and out of sight. Harry collapsed against the wall and sunk to the cold stone floor. He buried his head in his hands, surrounded by hopelessness as vast as the castle he now felt nothing less than trapped in.

* * *

 _And all the talk and all the lies_

 _Were all the empty things disguised as me_

 _Stranger than your sympathy_

* * *


	4. Without You Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and lyrics are from the song 'Without You Here' by The Goo Goo Dolls.

In years to come the next few weeks would all be a blur to Harry. A confused, worried, angry blur, in which he mostly shuffled along with the crowd. He merely carried out the motions of attending class, meals and Quidditch practice without any mental acknowledgment of where he was or what was going on around him. Sleep was nothing but a way to pass the time between mindless activities. He was haunted in dreams with the image of Draco's frightened face. He was in constant physical pain, whether it was a headache from going over the moment in his head or a burning in his chest that made him think his heart might actually be breaking.

Harry woke most mornings with a very stiff neck – evidently sleeping curled up in a chair every night was catching up with him. That particular morning, Harry awoke to find the common room around him deserted, which was extremely odd for eight o'clock on a Tuesday morning. Harry stood up gingerly, massaging his neck and for a moment wondering where everybody could've got to. He quickly realized they'd probably come down from the dormitories, seen him, and chosen to head strait to the Great Hall for breakfast. With that uncomfortable thought hanging over him he followed suit.

He spotted Hermione and Ron sitting halfway along the Gryffindor table and made defiantly to join them, ignoring the whispering and pointing from either side of him. Hermione looked up as he neared and smiled before glancing anxiously at Ron, who stared determinedly at his bowl of porridge.

"Can I …" Harry gestured toward the table.

"Of course, of course, sit down!" said Hermione, a little too brightly, moving her large book bag off the bench beside her.

"Anything good?" Harry asked, nodding toward the Daily Prophet Hermione had spread out in front of her.

"Nothing," Hermione said, clicking her tongue in an irritated fashion as if the Daily Prophet had severely let her down. "I can't tell if it's because nothing's happened or because they've stopped writing about whatever's happened. I sincerely hope it's that nothing's happened, because if the Daily Prophet's stopped reporting things about Voldemort, well," she let out a hopeless sort of puff of air, "How are people supposed to protect themselves if they don't know what to protect themselves against?"

Harry grunted in agreement, helping himself to some toast and trying his best not to be bothered by the fact that Ron still hadn't looked at him.

Hermione looked apprehensively between Harry and Ron, but seemed to feel it was best to continue making forced conversation. "Charms this morning. Flitwick said we'd be learning to change our appearance today. That ought to be interesting."

Ron managed to nod curtly without looking up.

"Appearance changing charms would be good for Concealment and Disguise, Harry …" Hermione said half-heartedly, looking extremely disappointed that neither Harry nor Ron were eager to make up. "… For when you're an Auror …"

Ron snorted into his porridge.

Harry's head snapped up. "What was that?" he asked testily.

"Well," Ron scoffed, still looking anywhere but at Harry, "I hardly think the Ministry will still want you now that you're … what you are."

"What do you –" Harry started in outrage.

"Shh, don't," Hermione said imploringly. "Please, don't do this here."

"We'll 'do this' where ever we want!" Harry snapped, rounding on Hermione. "If he's stupid enough to say things like that here, then I'll have a go at him here!"

"Shh," Hermione pleaded again, glancing around anxiously, "People are starting to look round and the last thing you need is more attention."

"Seems to me if he didn't want attention he'd stop asking for it," Ron said in a mocking kind of sing-song voice, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ron! How could you say that? You know Harry doesn't –"

"So I'm an attention seeking prat again, am I?" Harry interrupted coldly. "This is exactly what I wanted, is it? To have everyone talking about me and my friends mad at me? You're a lot thicker than I thought if you really believe –"

"Look, Hermione's right. You're making a scene," Ron shot at Harry, his ears reddening dangerously. "Why don't you just go hump your boyfriend or something?"

" _Ron_!" Hermione hissed, her expression livid. "Are you actually so unbelievably arrogant that you can't even … see two inches in front of your own nose to …" But whatever Ron couldn't see was seemingly beyond words, and Hermione settled with, "What is the matter with you?"

"Me?" exclaimed Ron, looking highly affronted. "Why me? What about him?"

"Because you are the one being a royal prick," Hermione snarled through clenched teeth, her eyes wild with fury. "All Harry ever asked you to do was be his friend, but if that's too _difficult_ for you then maybe you don't deserve Harry's friendship in the first place! Or mine, for that matter!"

Ron wore an expression that looked as if Hermione had just slapped him round the face, but Hermione was too busy shoving the Daily Prophet into her bag to notice. She flung it over her shoulder, grabbed Harry by the sleeve, and stormed out of the Great Hall, dragging a very shocked Harry behind her.

"Oh yeah?" Ron finally yelled as they reached the doorway, "Well maybe I'll just go be friends with Dean or Seamus! It won't be quite as _dangerous_ , but at least they won't play some kind of hero and then repay me for standing by them all those years by jumping into bed with the enemy!"

"Well if that's how you feel then maybe you should!" Hermione shouted over her shoulder, dragging Harry into the entrance hall and up two flights of stairs toward the Charms corridor before she stopped abruptly.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly, her voice shaking. "I just want him to stop being so …"

"I know," Harry said quickly. "Don't be sorry."

"You know he'll come off it eventually, don't you?" she asked, turning around. "Because he will, Harry, he just needs time to adjust."

Harry snorted. "It doesn't sound like it."

"I know," Hermione said in an I-can't-believe-I-have-such-an-idiot-for-a-friend sort of way. "But, well, no one said this was going to be easy."

Harry growled in frustration and took a few steps away. "Don't say things like that. That is a cliché, that doesn't help me."

"Sorry," Hermione said in a small voice.

Harry turned back around, his stomach sinking. "No, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You're the only one standing by me through this. I should at least be nice to the one friend I have. Just do me a favor, ok?"

Hermione nodded. "Anything."

"Let Ron alone. If he does want to be my friend again, I want it to be because he really wants to, not because he's scared of what you'll do to him if he doesn't."

Hermione smiled in spite of herself. "Deal."

* * *

 _My head lies to my heart_

 _And my heart it still believes_

* * *

Harry was in Dumbledore's office, finding himself once again amazed at how beautiful the circular room was. Dumbledore had left a note for Harry that morning, saying he wished for them to have a conversation. Harry had at first been frightened, as he knew very well being summoned to Dumbledore's office could mean bad news regarding Voldemort. His mind had raced frantically at all the possibilities of things that could've happened … all the people he loved who could've been hurt or killed. However one look at Dumbledore's face told Harry he'd worried for nothing. Dumbledore did not look upset in any way or speak to Harry in any matter of urgency. He simply thanked Harry for coming, said a small matter had just come up that required his assistance, and that he'd be right back.

So Harry waited in the comfortable chair in front of Dumbledore's desk where he'd sat so many times before, half–watching a few of the previous headmasters who'd crammed into one portrait to play some sort of card game, and wishing Fawkes were awake to keep him company.

"Hello again, Harry," said a quiet voice behind him.

Harry jumped. He had been lost in thoughts and hadn't heard Dumbledore come back into the room. "Hello, Professor," he answered.

Dumbledore sat down at his desk and surveyed Harry with that penetrating stare that always made Harry feel as if Dumbledore could see right through him.

"I would hazard to guess you know why I've called you here today?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shook his head.

Dumbledore looked surprised. "There have been some … rumors, shall we say, that have reached me, and I wished to speak to you regarding … ah … said rumors."

Harry's heart sank – Draco. Dumbledore knew. "So you know that I'm …" he trailed off, ashamed.

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I know," he agreed. "People are always surprised to find that I do know most of what goes on at this school. I am a firm believer in a person's right to privacy, and in most cases I do not like to involve myself in the personal lives of my students. However, in this case …" Dumbledore hesitated. "I will try my best not to make you uncomfortable. I want you to know that I am always here if you wish to talk. But things of this nature are, of course, the business of only yourself and those you wish to involve. You do not have to tell me anything if you do not wish to."

Harry nodded numbly, his face burning.

"Sympathy is an odd thing, isn't it?" Dumbledore said delicately. "It is meant to be helpful, but often has the strange power of making us feel worse, especially if we are trying our best to maintain dignity in a situation that strips it from us."

Again Harry said nothing, unable to tear his eyes away from the floor in front of him.

"Sirius was once," Dumbledore said after a moment.

Harry looked up finally. "What?"

"He and Remus Lupin had something similar to what you and Mr. Malfoy have, also in their seventh year, if my memory serves me correctly."

Harry stared at him, stunned. "I … I … Sirius and Lupin?" he spluttered. "That … that's unbelievable! Why didn't I know before now? Why didn't he tell me?"

"I cannot speak for Sirius."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked indignantly.

"Because it didn't matter," Dumbledore said, as if this should have been obvious. "It ended long before you were born. As I said, I do not usually busy myself with the personal matters of others, and there was never a time when I could have justified bringing it up."

"But this would all have been so much easier if I'd known!"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Again, I cannot speak for Sirius, but you know as well as I how much Sirius loved you. There is no way he could've known this was going to happen to you as well, however I would like to believe that he would've told you now, had he been around to do so."

Harry slumped back in his seat, still totally astonished, and the familiar pang in his chest returning at the mention of Sirius's death. "Is Lupin still … and was Sirius still, until …"

"I do not know the answer to that, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said slowly. "However I have not known Remus to have had a lasting relationship with anyone since. It is my private opinion that he never quite stopped loving Sirius. I remember he was most distressed when Sirius was sent to Azkaban, and when Sirius left us … well, we all handle grief in different ways. Sirius was first, and I believe foremost, Remus's best friend."

Harry exhaled. "I don't even know what to think. I had no idea."

"But it doesn't change anything, does it?"

Harry looked up. "What?"

"You don't think differently about either of them, do you?"

Harry shook his head, unsure of what Dumbledore was getting at.

Dumbledore simply looked at Harry, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Oh …" said Harry, as Dumbledore's point dawned on him. It was a very comforting thought, knowing that he knew this about Sirius and Lupin but didn't consider either of them any different. Which Harry now realized was probably the reason Dumbledore told him in the first place.

"Did everybody know?"

Dumbledore shook his head in a dignified manor. "Only a select few did, including myself and your father of course. I am sure it would have escalated into a situation very much like the one you find yourself in now if the rest of the school had known. There are two kinds of popular people, Harry. The kind everybody likes and the kind everybody envies. Fred and George Weasley are an excellent example of people who have become popular because the majority likes them. While your father, Sirius, and obviously yourself, are the kind everybody envies. This is the worst kind in situations such as this, because it is in the dark nature of humans to enjoy watching others fall from grace. Your father and Sirius were smart, charismatic, good looking, and a whole list of other things that made them the kind of people who would suffer immensely if a damaging secret were leaked to the public. You are exactly the same."

Harry snorted. "Anyone who envies me is welcome to swap lives."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly.

"You didn't bring me here to tell me about Sirius and Lupin, though, did you?"

Dumbledore's mouth broke into a small smile. "No," he agreed, "I did not. There were two things I wanted to discuss with you Harry, the first being … I know this can't have been easy for you these last few months. I wanted to see how you were doing. Presuming, of course, that you wish to talk about it. And implying nothing but respect if you do not."

"I'm …" Harry wanted to say 'fine', but he had always found it the most difficult to lie to Dumbledore, more so even than to Sirius or Hermione. Soon he found he was talking, more than he had done in a long time. He chose to leave out that Draco hadn't talked to Harry for weeks. But all the other thoughts that he'd hidden in the back of his mind suddenly came out; his struggles to accept that he was attracted to Draco, his horror that everyone had found out, how no one but Hermione had spoken to him in longer than he cared to remember, how he'd spent the last few weeks sleeping in the common room because his dorm mates didn't want to sleep near him anymore. And how Ron … his best friend … how Ron wouldn't even look at him.

Dumbledore listened, nodding occasionally but not interrupting, as Harry knew he would. When Harry finally ran out of things to say, Dumbledore merely looked at him for a moment. His expression was pensive, as if he were trying to work out how to word what he wanted to say.

"With all that you have been through in your life, I expect you are thoroughly tired of hearing people say they know how you feel when they don't," he said quietly into the ringing silence Harry's speech had left in the cavernous room. "I'm sure you can appreciate however, that I, perhaps more so than anyone you will talk to, truly do understand what it is like to feel as if the world is against you. And I have come to realize that the only way you will ever get through it is to understand that the people who disapprove or make fun are not truly your friends. It seems hard to imagine not caring what the Hufflepuffs think, but that is what you have to force yourself to do. They are simply people, Harry, and people will talk. It has always been so. And as for those who _are_ your friends, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Finnigan, and of course Ron … all you can do is continue to tell yourself that you have done nothing wrong. And hope that, in time, they will come to realize this as well."

Harry nodded slowly, more grateful then ever of how close he had become to the man sitting in front of him. No one else had been able to word it quite like that. "It's hard …" he said softly.

Dumbledore assumed an expression of total agreement. "It is. Life is hard, Harry. No one has to tell you that. But you _will_ be alright. It seems hard to imagine in times of crisis, but one of the most extraordinary things about the human heart is its ability to heal. In time, you will be alright."

"What was the second thing?" Harry asked after a moment.

Dumbledore hesitated. "The second thing … is a rather delicate subject I'm afraid. In a way I feel badly for bringing it up, as I'm sure it is nothing you haven't already thought of, but it does need to be said. As I have become something of a guardian of you over the years, I feel the need to warn you … about Draco Malfoy."

Harry felt himself deflate slightly. "You don't trust him either, do you?" he said flatly.

Dumbledore shook his head fervently. "It is not that I don't trust him, not all at. Quite the opposite in fact. I have the same faith in him as I do all my students. It is one of my deepest hopes that Draco Malfoy does not follow in the footsteps of his father and become a Death Eater after he leaves the school. I do not believe he has ever been the person his father wants him to be, and I would not have admitted him to this school if I believed him to be a killer. However … I am human, after all, and I have been wrong before. Most of the known Death Eaters were at Hogwarts in their youth. Even Voldemort himself was once and, as you know, it was I who brought him here. I do not wish to ask you not to trust Draco. You, I have no doubt, know him better than anyone, so it is down to you to make up your own mind about him. I only wish to caution you, more so about the people Draco has connections with than about Draco himself. I'm sure you know as well as I of the dangers of associating with someone who's family are supporters of Voldemort. Especially for you."

Harry sighed. "I do know," he said wearily. "It's something I've struggled with, right from the beginning. I don't know what the answer is. I wonder every day whether Draco's going to be used as a tool to get to me, and whether it's worth it."

"And what conclusions have you come to?"

"That … that a battle between me and Voldemort is something of an inevitability, isn't it? With the prophecy and everything?" Harry said reasonably. "So … so I guess … if it's going to happen either way, worrying about it won't help."

Dumbledore smiled. "Admirable," he said quietly. "You are one of the bravest people I have ever met, Harry, and yet your courage never ceases to amaze me."

"Oh …" Harry said, blushing, "… thanks …"

"As I said, I did not wish to tell you what to do. I merely wanted to make sure you were giving the matter the amount of thought it deserves, but I can see I need not have bothered you," Dumbledore said. "If there's nothing else you would like to discuss, I shall let you get back to your evening."

Harry shook his head. "No, nothing."

"I hope things will soon be better for you, Harry. Ronald Weasley is a fine, upstanding young man from a wonderful family, which I'm sure I needn't tell you. I feel certain he will come around eventually. Miss Granger will see to that, I have no doubt. As a Headmaster it does not do to pick favorites, however, between you and me," Dumbledore tapped the side of this nose with a long crooked finger, his blue eyes sparkling, "Miss Granger has always been one of mine. I was most pleased to see you'd become friends with her in your first year. In fact, when the Sorting Hat was torn between putting her in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, it was I who persuaded it to choose Gryffindor, with the hope such a friendship would occur. I knew you were bound to have a less-than-normal life, and I saw in Miss Granger qualities I knew you'd need in a best friend along the road. I don't know if I've ever told you this before, but no one I have ever met reminds me more of your mother than Hermione Granger. She is without a doubt the cleverest witch of her age, as I'm sure you know. But underneath that magnificently fiery temper, she also has an uncommonly good heart. And when paired with courage, determination and stubbornness to be revered … well, in any case, Mr. Weasley doesn't stand a chance."

Harry nodded. "Professor, I … thanks."

Dumbledore smiled. "In the light of everything that happens to you I sometimes forget that you are still a teenaged boy, and not quite yet the adult you seem to be most of the time. Life is difficult enough at seventeen without all the extra burdens you have to deal with, and perhaps … perhaps your life would be a smidge easier if I remember that more often."

* * *

 _I'm trying to believe in things that I don't know_

* * *

Harry chose to take the long way back from Dumbledore's office, feeling he needed a walk to clear his head. Their conversation hung heavily over him like a thick fog. What stood out most was the shocking information Dumbledore had given him about Sirius. Harry could still scarcely believe it, and almost wished he hadn't found out. He felt a bitter sense of loss when he thought of how much he needed to talk to Sirius about Draco, now that he knew Sirius had been through the same thing. Sirius had been more than a godfather – he was like a parent and an older brother and a best friend all in one. It had been a long time since Harry'd missed his godfather this much.

"He died two years ago," he told himself sternly, "Pull yourself together."

But it was no use. There was so much he wanted to ask Sirius; so much Harry needed him for. He needed Sirius to tell him everything would be ok, that being gay didn't change who he was and that it didn't matter. He'd already heard it from two out of the three people he trusted most in the world, but somehow he couldn't quite convince himself it was true when it hadn't come from Sirius. When it _couldn't_ come from Sirius. He wanted to hear Sirius admit to his feelings for Lupin, even if they were long gone. Most of all, he wanted Sirius to forgive Draco for being a Malfoy, because if Sirius could do it then maybe … just maybe … Harry could too.

He walked up and down deserted corridors, some of which he didn't recognize, and was almost at the bottom of a flight of stairs when the sound of familiar voices floated past him. Ron and Hermione were standing what sounded like just around the corner, Ron's tone pleading and Hermione's cold and hard. Harry doubled back a few steps, all thoughts of Sirius disappearing as he prayed they hadn't heard him.

"I thought I told you I never wanted to speak to you again," Hermione whispered fiercely.

"I didn't know you were serious," Ron said in a small voice.

"Well I was!"

"Hermione, please, I didn't want it to go this far," Ron pleaded.

"Didn't want _what_ to go this far?" Hermione said, and Harry could hear rather than see her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I mean, I didn't do this just to be mean to Harry or something, if that's what you're thinking," Ron said quickly, sensing the menace in Hermione's voice just like Harry could.

"Then why did you do it?" she snapped.

Ron sighed. "Because … I don't know! Because I'm not okay with the fact that he's gay!"

"Well why the hell not? It's not like he's gay with you," Hermione demanded, stamping her foot.

"It just makes me uncomfortable, okay? I don't want it to, but it does!" Ron said loudly.

"Well sometimes being a friend means you have to deal with things that make you uncomfortable, because you _know_ he'd do the same for you!" Hermione fired back. "He is our friend! My best friend, Ron, and yours too! I can't believe you're doing this to him! He needs us more than ever right now, and you weren't there for him. I can't forgive you for that."

"So you're just never going to speak to me again? What about _us_ , Hermione?"

Hermione faltered. "What _about_ us?" she hissed after a moment. "There _is_ no us!"

"And there's never going to be?" Ron asked, sounding no less than heartbroken.

"I guess not!"

There was a long pause in which Harry tried to convince himself that he shouldn't be hearing this. That if he were any kind of friend he'd run the other way right now. But his feet were glued to the ground.

"I think I love you," Ron said quietly.

Harry's heart stopped.

"Don't say that," Hermione whispered.

"It's true," Ron said, more confidently.

"Don't, Ron!" Hermione cried angrily, sounding close to tears now. "Never say that again!"

"Why not?" Ron demanded. "You feel the same way, I know you do."

"I don't!" Hermione insisted, unable to stop her voice from wavering. "I _can't_. Not anymore."

"So that's just it, then?" Ron asked, now sounding close to tears himself. "You're going to just ignore whatever it was you felt for me? You're going to throw away every chance we had because Harry and I had a fight?"

"No, because you turned out to be a lousy friend!" Hermione snapped, the fire back in her voice now. "Because I thought you were different. I hoped you were different."

"So if I make up with Harry everything will be okay again? Is that what you want?"

"No! I don't want you to make up with Harry because of me! I want you to do it because _you_ want to!" Hermione shot at him. "And if you don't want to then it'd be better if you just leave him alone. And leave me alone."

"I don't want this to be the end, Hermione!" Ron said, his voice breaking.

"Neither do I! But this is out of my hands," Hermione said apathetically. "It's entirely up to you."

Harry heard her stomp off in the other direction, and it was a long time before Harry could convince himself to move. He peered around the corner slowly and saw Ron had sunk to the floor, his head in his hands. Harry resisted a very strong urge to comfort his friend. Instead he slunk back to the common room, where he persuaded a sobbing Hermione to let him hold her until her tears ran out, as she had him so many times before.

* * *

 _I never had this planned_

* * *

 

Harry had no idea what time it was. He'd pretended to enter his dormitory when he and Hermione walked up the stairs together, hours ago now. But as soon as she was out of sight he'd snuck back down and curled up in the chair in front of the fireplace where he now spent all his nights. She didn't know, he'd decided to let it slip his mind whenever she was around. She was already worried enough about him and he didn't want to add to her already breakdown-worthy stress level. The moonbeams shining through the high windows of the common room surrounded Harry in an eternity of silvery-blue light. He watched with mild interest as they danced across the floor and walls. They swirled and twirled in a ballet performed just for him, that was beautiful and yet somehow heart-breakingly lonely. It made him feel strangely forgotten, sitting there in the darkness with no one to keep him company but the moonlight. _The moon is alone too_ , he thought, looking up at the single glittery orb suspended forever in the vast black sky.

He shifted his position slightly, but no matter how he sat he couldn't get comfortable. Though somehow he didn't think lack of comfort was the only thing keeping sleep from him. It had been weeks since Draco even looked at him. Ron wouldn't speak to him other than the occasional shouting match. And now, worst of all, Harry was getting in the way of Ron and Hermione. A part of him had been apprehensive about the day they finally realized how they felt about each other. But another part of him – a much bigger part – just wanted them to be happy. And if being together was what they wanted, he knew he'd find a way to be happy for them. But now, thanks to him, that might never happen. He wouldn't ever be able to forgive himself if they never got together because of him. He loved that Hermione was on his side, and even more that she stood up for him publicly. Every time she glared at someone who wouldn't talk to him he'd be unable to stop smiling for the rest of the day. And he had practically been able to feel himself glowing when Hermione had yelled at Ron on his behalf. But he also hated what the situation was doing to her. This was not her issue; not her cross to bear, and Harry berated himself for allowing her to bear it. Secretly he felt that if Ron could just stop being so _stupid_ everything would be alright again, but deep down he also knew there had to be more to Ron's actions than Harry could see. Ron had never been the type of person to be unkind for no reason.

He had to make things right. That was the only thing that stood out clear to him. Even after all they'd been through together he didn't feel he owed it to Ron, as a large part of him still felt all Ron really deserved was a good swift kick. But he knew he owed it to Hermione – his one and only true friend. The one person in the world who'd never had anything but his best interests at heart, never abandoned him, never let him down. The girl who seemingly lived to be there for him. The girl who was always willing to hug him and talk things out, or simply sit there and allow him to take his anger out on her. The girl who's mere smile had the rare ability to make everything alright. He knew if a time came when she was forced to pick between him and Ron she would pick Harry in an instant, arguing that he needed her more. And true though that may be, Harry knew he couldn't let it happen.

What to do about Draco was an entirely different issue. Harry's chest clenched painfully whenever he caught sight of Draco's dejected posture and sad eyes. He hated not knowing what was wrong. He hated knowing he needed to fix things but not knowing how. He'd tried everything from cornering Draco after class to asking a few of Draco's friends for help. One of which earned him a bloody nose and neither got him anywhere. He was completely at a loss as to what to do. With every day that went by the situation seemed more and more impossible, and the hole Draco had left in Harry's chest got bigger and bigger. He was simply numb. Numb with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness that washed over him, cutting off his air supply and drowning him in a pool of black nothingness.

* * *

 _You're changing everything in me_

* * *

"You didn't sleep, did you?" Hermione asked the instant Harry joined her in the Great Hall the next morning. She squinted at his face with concern.

"Not much," Harry answered, knowing he probably looked just as bad as he felt.

Hermione clicked her tongue sympathetically. "I'll tell McGonagall you're sick if you want to go back to bed."

Harry stared at her in amazement. "Are you suggesting I skip class?"

"Well, you look like you could use a few more hours sleep …"

"And miss Transfiguration?" Harry asked in mock horror. He picked up the goblet she'd been drinking from and examined it. "Did someone slip something in your pumpkin juice this morning?"

Hermione laughed and poked him in the ribs. "Excuse me for looking out for you. But really, I'll lend you my notes if you want. Considering … well, considering your current situation, I think maybe a bit more sleep would do you better than not paying attention in class."

"Who says I don't pay attention in class?"

"The puddle of drool on your desk at the end of every lesson, that's who," Hermione smirked.

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Damn, I didn't think you noticed," he joked. "But yeah, maybe I will go back to bed for a bit. Thanks, Hermione."

He squeezed her hand lightly, and started to make his way back to the common room. With all his dorm mates in class he could get a few hours sleep in his own bed for a change. Harry was halfway down the corridor towards the Fat Lady when he felt something hard hit the side of his head.

"Ow," he commented to himself. He looked around to find the source and saw Ron's head sticking out from behind the door of an empty classroom. His good mood vanished.

"What?" Harry snapped coldly, rubbing his head.

"I need to talk to you," Ron said, his face very red.

"Not interested," Harry said shortly, starting to walk away.

"C'mon, I need to talk to you!" Ron called after him.

Harry whipped around, narrowing his eyes. Anger at the person he couldn't believe he'd once called his best friend coursed through his body. "I thought you'd stopped talking to me. Don't feel you need to start, Hermione's a much better best friend then you ever were," he said unkindly.

"I don't _want_ to talk to you," Ron sneered (reminding Harry uncannily of Draco), "but I have to say something. Just get in here."

Harry exhaled to calm himself and reluctantly followed his former friend into the classroom. "What do you want?" he spat at the back of Ron's red head.

"You couldn't be satisfied with what you had, could you?" Ron snarled, still facing away from Harry. "Nothing is ever enough for the great Harry Potter, is it? Always have to have a little bit more, don't you?"

Harry stared blankly at Ron's back. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Hermione!" Ron hissed, spinning around suddenly. "One relationship isn't enough for you? Now you're going for Hermione too?

Harry blinked. " _Going_ for Hermione? What – you – have you completely lost your mind? I'm not _going_ for Hermione, I've _never_ gone for Hermione!"

"Oh, please, do you think I'm an idiot?" Ron snapped.

"Haven't proved me wrong yet," Harry muttered.

"Do you think I don't know how you feel about her? Do you think I can't see it when you're together?" Ron yelled. "She's always liked you more than me! She always takes your side, she always defends you! And you should hear her talk about you when you're not there! She's crazy about you, she always has been! And now, what, she's just mysteriously not talking to me and spending all her time with you? You used to be my friend, I never thought you would do this to me! Especially since Hermione and I were –"

"Oh, what?" Harry interrupted coldly. "You and Hermione are something now? Because I was under the impression that you'd been harboring an all-consuming love for her since the moment you met, but haven't had the balls to do something about it!"

"I do too!" Ron retorted, a blush spreading down his neck. "I … I've been waiting for the right time!"

"Right, because it's not like you saw her every day for the last six years," Harry said sarcastically.

"Not – not _every_ day. And how did this become about me? This is about you and the fact that you're in love with Hermione!"

"No, this is about the fact that you have gone completely insane!" Harry shouted. "I don't have to stand here and take this! It's not _my_ fault that you've never done anything about your feelings for her, and if she moves on before you ever get the courage to ask her out then maybe that's what you deserve!"

And with that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Ron standing with his face even redder and his mouth wide open.

* * *

 _And I'm not sure I believe anything I feel_

* * *

Harry had tried his best to sleep during the hours his classmates were in lessons but found it nearly impossible to get Ron out of his head. How could Ron possibly suggest that Harry was trying to _steal_ Hermione? The only reason Harry was spending all his time with Hermione was because Ron wouldn't talk to him! Well, not the only reason. Harry loved spending time with Hermione, and wouldn't soon forget about all she'd done for him. Maybe he was a little bit in love with her, but he would never dream of going for her! And he was hurt and angry that Ron would suggest it. He rolled out of bed, frustrated with himself, and Ron, and the world. The others would be back from class soon, and Harry didn't want to be there when they got back. He wandered out to the grounds, where he spent the rest of the night copying out the notes Hermione had left him at lunchtime and throwing stones irritably into the lake.

When it was too dark to see any more Harry reluctantly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping it was late enough that most people would have gone to bed. He knew Hermione wouldn't have. She'd spent the last few weeks awake long after everyone else, revising for NEWTs like she'd never revised before. He found Hermione sitting at a table in the corner of the common room. It was deserted apart from two second years that appeared to have fallen asleep into their revising. Harry had half a mind to wake them, but then decided Hermione's table was far enough away that they wouldn't be overheard. He wasn't in the mood to be stared at anyway. He made his way slowly over to where Hermione sat, trying to word what he knew he had to say. She was enraptured in her reading and didn't notice him coming until the last second, when she jumped at the sight of him standing beside her and dropped half her notes on the floor.

"Sorry," said Harry as he knelt down to help her.

"What's up?" Hermione asked from under the table as she scrambled to pick the pages up off the floor.

"Can we talk?"

"I'm sort of in the middle of something right now, Harry," she said in a slightly flustered voice. She didn't look at Harry as she sat back down and resumed attempting to flip through several books at once. "Can it wait until morning?"

"No, it can't," Harry said shortly, wishing she would look at him. "I think you should talk to Ron."

"No," Hermione said flatly, reburying her nose in a book.

"That's not fair, Hermione," Harry said quietly. "He hasn't done anything to you."

"Maybe not, but he's done a lot to you, and you're my best friend," she said, firmly but calmly, without looking up from her notes.

Harry sighed; he knew she would make that argument. He was grateful for it, really, but still felt this had gone on long enough. "He feels like everyone's against him."

"Everyone is," Hermione said indifferently.

"No they're not. Most people are with him, as far as I can tell."

"… That's not true …" she said distractedly, making a hasty note on one of the pages.

"Yes it is, Hermione, open your eyes," Harry said angrily. "Haven't you noticed that no one talks to me anymore? Don't you see how they look at me?"

"Of course I've noticed," Hermione sighed, finally looking up. "I hate the lot of them for it, too. Parvati and Lavender are seriously deluded if they think I'm ever helping them with homework again," she added mutinously. "But they're just people, Harry, and no matter what you'll never have everyone on your side. But you should have your friends on your side. And him most of all, you're his best friend."

"So then let me be mad at him! And believe me, I am. But he can't stand it that you're not speaking to him too, I know he can't."

"Well that's his own fault, isn't it?" Hermione retorted. "It was _his_ choice to abandon his supposed best friend, and _his_ choice to be the world's biggest prat! And if that's his side then I'm never going to be on it!"

"I'm not asking you to be on his side, I love that you're on mine," Harry said exasperatedly. "It's just that he … he thinks that you are I are … well, I don't know exactly what he thinks we're doing. Becoming more than friends, I guess."

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What?"

"Because we're spending so much time together, and because you won't speak to him. He thinks I'm trying to steal you from him."

Harry regretted saying it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He hadn't wanted to tell her what Ron had said. He knew it wasn't his place. And she reacted exactly the way he knew she would.

"He told you that?" Hermione asked quietly, with the air of someone trying to contain an explosion just below the surface.

"Yelled it at me, more like," said Harry.

Hermione stared right through Harry for a few moments, her breathing fast and shallow, and when she did speak it was with what Harry knew was barely controlled fury. "Where's my wand?" she asked slowly.

Harry stared at her, bewildered. "I don't know. Why?"

"Because I am going to find Ronald Weasley and _murder_ him," she said, each word dripping with ice. "How dare … who does he think … I am _not_ his to be stolen!" she cried, slamming her hand on the table, her forced composure finally breaking. "What did he tell you, that I _belonged_ to him and you'd better step off? If you and I wanted to become more than friends then that is our prerogative and absolutely _none_ of his business! He's had six years to ask me out if he wanted to, and he never did!"

"To be fair," Harry pointed out quietly, "You've had six years to ask him out too, and you never did anything either."

Hermione managed to look affronted through her outrage. "How … why are you so sure I … maybe I don't …"

"Hermione, come on," Harry said wearily. "You can't tell me you don't feel the same way about him, because I know you do."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't! Either way, that is entirely beside the point!" Hermione fired back. "The point is it's not our fault that he is an ignorant, immature little boy, and if he wants to be jealous then that's just fine."

"It is not just fine!" Harry protested. "He's jealous for a reason, Hermione. You were the one who told me that once, remember? That everything happens to me, and that I get all the attention and he gets pushed aside? It's probably killing him to think you might be picking me over him, just like he thinks everyone else does."

"But you're with Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "How on earth could he think you were trying to move in on me, when he knows full well the reason he was mad at you in the first place is because you're with Malfoy?"

"I never said it was logical, I just said it was how he felt," Harry said, glancing nervously over his shoulder to make sure the two girls were still asleep.

"Well you can forget it!" Hermione snapped unsympathetically, slamming her book shut. "I'll speak to him again when he deserves to be spoken to. And if that's never, then so be it."

* * *

 _It seems the ones who love us are the ones that we deceive_

* * *

Hermione had barely spoken a word to anyone since the conversation she'd had with Harry the previous night. She'd stormed off to her dormitory after Harry told her Ron had accused the two of them of becoming more than friends, and when he met her for breakfast the next morning, she looked as if she'd spent the entire night silently willing something large and heavy to drop from the sky onto Ron's head.

Hermione's bad mood continued throughout the whole day. To Harry's immense surprise, it even resulted in her being rude to Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration, which earned her the first detention she'd had since the one they'd done together in first year. By that night, however, Hermione seemed to have calmed down a smidge and was now torn between several emotions – her still persistent fury with Ron, her mortification at the prospect of a detention, and, if Harry was not quite mistaken, remorse at how she knew she'd been treating him all day.

The two of them were now flaked out on a large, squishy sofa in the Gryffindor common room; Hermione only half-heartedly pretending to read the large textbook lying open in her lap; Harry absentmindedly picking at a scab on the back of his hand and squinting into the fire. The days had been crawling by at a snail's pace, and every minute that passed was one minute more since he'd last spoken to Draco. He had rarely had so much on his mind with so little desire to actually think about any of it. Hermione kept throwing him apprehensive glances, but as he was mostly ignoring her, she continued to feign revision. Then, all of a sudden, as if something shiny had just caught her eye, Hermione looked up, and then immediately wriggled closer to Harry and rested her head gently on his shoulder. The sudden movement roused Harry from the reverie he had sunk into. He glanced at her in momentary surprise, until he followed her eye-line to where she was gazing smugly at a flash of brilliant orange hair as it disappeared back out of the portrait hole. Harry felt himself deflate. He sighed heavily, hating the self-satisfied expression that had taken over his friend's usually kind face.

After a quick moment, Hermione seemed to realize that she had upset him, and she lifted her head off his shoulder and sat up gingerly, now looking quite ashamed of herself.

"That was really mean, wasn't it?" she asked in a small voice.

 _Yes_ , Harry thought, but the word got stuck in his throat before he could bring himself to say it. In all honesty, it wasn't any less than Ron deserved.

Hermione, however, seemed to take Harry's lack of response as his un-voiced agreement. She closed her textbook with a dull thud and turned away from Harry, her eyes very red.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, quite unsure of what to say. Once again he was reminded of the fact that Hermione always knew what to say when he was upset, and he rarely did for her. He resisted an urge to take her hand, feeling it would be quite inappropriate considering the situation.

"Look," he said delicately after a moment, but Hermione cut across him.

"No, don't make excuses for me," she said in a shaky voice. "I can't … I just …"

She glanced around nervously and swallowed several times, but couldn't seem to find words to explain herself. "I'm going to bed," she said finally.

Harry spluttered his protest, but she got up and rushed out of the room before he could come up with a single comforting thing to say. He was sure he saw her brush away a tear or two before she disappeared, alone, into the dark stairwell.

* * *

As Harry shuffled out of class the next day (it might've been a Thursday, Harry didn't know, or care) he felt a light tap on his arm.

"Psst."

Harry looked around to see what had made the noise. He jumped slightly as he noticed Blaise Zabini peeking out at him from behind a statue.

"I need to talk to you," Zabini hissed.

"Why …" Harry asked warily.

"I can't tell you here, idiot," Zabini sneered, "Meet me by that suit of armor on the fourth floor, and you'd better not keep me waiting, Potter."

Harry contemplated arguing but didn't think he had the energy for a fight. So he settled for rolling his eyes and making his way to the statue, very aware of the fact that Zabini was following him closely.

"You know, you could just walk with me instead of two feet behind," Harry said, annoyed.

"I _can't_ walk with you, Potter," Zabini hissed. "Do _you_ want people to see us together?"

"Don't you think walking that close behind me will make people wonder just as much as if you walked beside me?" Harry snapped. "Besides, I don't care what people think of me anymore. It's just irritating to have someone stepping on my heels."

"I could step on other places if you'd like," Zabini taunted. "Places that would make it difficult for you to continue screwing my best friend."

Harry stopped abruptly and whipped around. "Is that what people are saying now? Where did you hear that?"

Zabini smiled wickedly. "Oh, just a best friend's intuition." He gave Harry a shove. "We're almost there, Potter, just shut up and keep walking."

Harry rolled his eyes again, even though he knew Zabini couldn't see him. He stopped as soon as he stepped into the next deserted corridor and spun around. "What do you want?"

"Ok, let's first get it clear, Potter, that I do _not_ approve of what's apparently going on between you and my best friend," Zabini said, with a disgusted expression on his face. "I'll never know what he sees in Gryffindor trash like you, but if you two are really going to be … well, whatever it is that you are, then there's something you need to know about Draco."

"What, he's too good for me so I should stop trying?" Harry sighed. "Come on, Zabini, you're wasting my time."

"He _is_ too good for you, Potter, so you _should_ stop trying," Zabini sneered. "But that's not what I have to tell you. Ok, look, first of all you need to promise me that Draco will never find out that I told you what I'm about to tell you."

"If Draco wouldn't want me to know then why are you telling me?"

"God, are you always this difficult?" Zabini spat. "Because you need to know. Now promise."

"Fine, I promise."

"Seriously, Potter this isn't a joke. He doesn't even know I know, and he'd be really mad if he ever found out I told you," Zabini snapped.

"Ok, seriously, I won't say anything. What is it?"

"When Draco was little he was molested."

Harry froze. "He was … did – did you just say …?" he spluttered.

Zabini nodded. "When he was ten. It was one of Mr. Malfoy's friends. Apparently it went on for almost a year before his parents found out. The guy … well I don't know exactly what he did. But you get the idea."

Harry's knees shuddered dangerously and he felt his mouth fall open involuntarily. "Are you serious?"

Zabini sighed. "I know, it's awful. As I understand it he's never told anyone, but his parents told me so I would know what was going on if he ever, like, screamed at night or something."

Harry put a hand to his mouth. "Does he?" he whispered.

"Sometimes," Zabini said quietly.

"So he wasn't lying when he told me he's never had sex," Harry said in disbelief.

"You didn't believe him?"

Harry snorted. "No! Have you not heard what everyone says about him?"

Zabini laughed quietly. "Malfoy is a very well respected and well known name in our world, Potter. They're like celebrities – people know things about them and talk about them, a _lot_. No one would ever believe someone like Draco Malfoy could go through his entire teenage life never being with any girls," Zabini explained. "Anyway, my point was, please give him his space about all this. I've never seen him happier in my life than he has been in the last few weeks with you, so I know how much you mean to him. He'll come to you when he's ready, I know he will, but don't push him."

Harry nodded again, his stomach still clenching painfully. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. He wished he hadn't heard it. He wished with all he had in him that he could go back in time and stop Zabini from uttering those awful words. He leaned against the wall as he felt his knees begin to give away again. He had few times in his life been as angry as he was at that moment. He was angry at whoever that man was for doing that to Draco. He was angry at Draco's parents for letting Draco any where near that man. But most of all he was angry at a world full of injustice, a world that could chew people up and spit them out without a second glance. A world that could let such things happen to an innocent child. A world that forgot to care about Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 _There's nothing more without you_

 _Without you here_

* * *


	5. Holding On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and lyrics are from the song 'Broken' by Lifehouse.

Harry hadn't seen Draco in longer than a month, and it was easily the longest and hardest of Harry's life. He barely thought of anything except what Blaise Zabini had told him. His stomach was in serious danger of rejecting whatever was in it whenever he thought about the suffering Draco had endured. He'd so far kept his promise to Zabini to let Draco talk to him first, but every day it got harder. He'd taken for granted having Draco in his life; not just the more intimate side of their relationship but also just having Draco to talk to and laugh with. No one had ever understood him like Draco did, not even Sirius. It had taken being separated from Draco for Harry to realize how much he had come to care for the other boy. It killed him a little bit inside every time he caught a glimpse of Draco's eyes across the room. Those mysterious, stormy eyes that had captured Harry so early on were now filled with a sadness the likes of which even Harry had never known. Every time he saw Draco it was all Harry could do not to kiss him and hold him and tell him everything would be alright. But he knew it would be a lie. Things could never be alright. Not for the boy the world left behind.

* * *

 _And I am here still waiting_

* * *

 _Crack._

The loud noise snapped Harry out of the stupor he'd sunk while lying on the banks of the lake. He sat up quickly and looked around. He saw Draco standing meekly, half hidden behind a beach tree. Harry's mouth fell open at the sight of him. Draco had clearly been just as sleep deprived as Harry had these last few weeks. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked skinnier than Harry remembered.

Draco smiled tentatively. "Hi," he whispered.

"How long have you been standing there?"

Draco shrugged. "Only a few minutes. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

Harry shook his head. "I wasn't sleeping. Just … thinking."

Draco nodded slowly.

"Are you going to sit down?" Harry asked.

"Oh."

Draco looked slightly flustered, but made his way to the patch of grass beside Harry. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Draco absentmindedly played with a piece of grass, and Harry madly racked his brain for something to say. There were a million things he wanted to say and nothing that seemed right. He wanted to hug Draco and tell him how much he'd missed him. He wanted to yell at Draco for causing him so much pain. And most of all he desperately wanted to tell Draco what Zabini had told him, but he knew he couldn't.

"I've been really worried about you," he finally said.

Draco nodded. "I know. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to … I mean, I was just … I don't know what I mean," he finished lamely. "I just think that this is all too much for me right now. I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm so sorry."

Harry stared. "Are you … breaking up with me?"

Draco swallowed. "I don't want to do this, but I don't see what other choice I have. We can't continue this Harry. This is wrong."

"What's wrong?"

"This," Draco gestured between them. "Us."

"What do you mean?"

"This was never meant to work, Harry, you can't deny that. We've gone much too far already. So I'm ending it before either of us gets any more hurt then we already are," Draco said in a rush.

Harry moved an inch closer and put his hand over Draco's. "I don't want to lose you, and I know deep down you don't want that either. So why does the rest matter?"

"Because it does," Draco whispered, deliberately not meeting Harry's gaze. "Maybe under different circumstances we could've worked things out, but the point is we can't. I can't. I'm sorry I flipped out before. I didn't mean to scare you, or worry you, and I'm sorry if I did. But I'm going through some things right now in my life that are hard enough to deal with without all this. I can't handle us anymore, I really can't."

Harry sighed. "I know."

"You know what?"

"I know what you're going through," Harry said slowly. "I know about everything, Draco. About that guy, and what he did to you, and –"

"What are you talking about?" Draco cut him off, his eyes wide and horrified.

"I know what happened to you when you were ten. What your parents' friend did to you. And Draco, I can't even imagine –"

"How do you know that?" Draco said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Blaise Zabini told me," Harry explained apologetically. "Your parents told him. Please don't be mad at him, Draco, he only told me because he knew you wouldn't and it's something I needed to know."

"Why?" Draco said angrily. "Why is that something you needed to know? Why do you think that my personal life is any of your fucking business, Potter?"

"Why?" Harry asked incredulously. " _Why_? Because I'm dating you, Draco! You can't just close yourself up, never telling anybody anything about you and then expect that you're not going to get hurt again! I feel like the worst person in the world for being the one to make you freak out like that, and that never would've happened if you'd just told me!"

Draco mouthed some words Harry couldn't make out, as if looking for the right ones to actually use. "Why should I tell you?" he shouted after a moment. "I don't owe it to you! It was seven years ago, it's _my_ past, and I should be able to choose to tell whoever I want without Harry fucking Potter getting mad at me!"

"Draco, I'm not mad at you, I just want to know _why_ you didn't tell me!" Harry pleaded. "Did you think that I wouldn't understand? That I'd treat you differently?"

"Nobody understands!" Draco exploded.

"Of course they don't! How can you expect them to?" Harry cried. "No one will ever be able to fully understand all that you've been through because of this, but if you just give me a chance, I'll try. I want to try to help you."

"I don't need help," Draco whispered, his voice wavering and his eyes red. "Not from you or anybody else. I haven't had any help all these years and I've been just fine."

"You are not just fine!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you worried that I'll think you're weak? Because you aren't. You are one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever met. But even the strongest people in the world need a shoulder to cry on once in a while. Well I'm here. I …" Harry felt his voice break and took a deep breath. "Look, if you really think that breaking up will make this easier on you then I won't try to stop you from leaving right now. But think about what you're giving up. You said it yourself – I understand you. And you understand me! I know it will never be easy, but we'll work through this together. Do you really think that what you need right now is to be alone?"

Draco mouthed wordlessly again. "I'll always be alone," he choked out finally. "You can't change that."

"Let me try," Harry pleaded softly. He moved forward slowly and wrapped his arms around Draco. "Talk to me, let me in on what's going on."

"I just … I was so scared," Draco whispered shakily into Harry's neck, "When I looked up and saw you sitting over me like that. It was exactly how he looked before he did it. I just saw his face all of a sudden. This horrible face that's haunted me for seven years, and there it was again, just when I thought I could finally be happy. I was sick with myself. I thought I was over this! I've dealt with this for seven years and I've been fine. I'd accepted that there was nothing I could do about it, and that I needed to move on."

"You need to stop being so hard on yourself," Harry said.

"I can't even get past this stupid thing that happened so long ago," Draco said, shaking his head. "This is all so messed up. Are you sure you want to get yourself all wrapped up in something so complicated?"

"Draco, my life without you was just as complicated," Harry said truthfully. "The only difference when I'm with you is that I'm happier than I've ever been. I don't want to lose that, and I know you don't either."

"I'm sorry I ruined that night for us," Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not. It was much too fast anyway."

Draco nodded slowly. "I put up a tough front, you know, no one else really knows what's underneath. Everyone has this false image of me and you're the only one who knows the truth."

"Don't you ever get tired of pretending?" Harry asked.

"Every day," Draco said resentfully. "But if there's anything my father actually taught me it's that a Malfoy is always calm and collected on the outside, no matter what's happening underneath. I can't let people find out about the person I really am because that person isn't good enough."

"Isn't good enough for who?"

"For anyone. For my family, especially my father. For my friends."

Harry pulled Draco closer. "It's good enough for me," he said quietly into Draco's neck. He sucked gently on a spot for a moment, then blew on it lightly. Draco sighed and stroked Harry's leg slowly, teasingly brushing back and forth from Harry's abdomen to his upper thigh. Draco's fingers teased the top of Harry's jeans before slipping his hand under the fabric. Harry smiled happily.

"Stop it," he whispered, pushing Draco's hand away.

"Why? You know you want it," Draco whispered back seductively.

Harry laughed quietly. "Yeah I do, that's the problem. With you practically in my pants I'm going to get hard and then where will we be."

"I'm already hard …" Draco licked Harry's ear tantalizingly. "I want you _so_ much."

"Two minutes ago you were telling me how scary it was the last time we tried this." Harry poked Draco playfully in the ribs. "Now all of a sudden you 'want me'?"

"Mmm, you bet I do," Draco purred, his hands roaming underneath Harry's t-shirt. "I want to take your whole throbbing length in my hot, wet mouth and roll my tongue around it until you –"

"Stop it!" Harry groaned. "We can't do this and you know it."

Draco smiled wickedly and rolled on top of Harry slowly. Harry's felt the front of his jeans tighten as Draco's lips touched his neck and his breath hitch as Draco's thigh rubbed against the crotch of Harry's pants. Draco rocked slowly back and forth, kissing Harry deeply and grinding the bump in his pants into Harry's.

Harry shuddered. "Well now I'm hard," he moaned. "What are you doing to me?"

Harry rolled Draco over and sat up reluctantly.

"Fine," Draco pouted. "I guess I'll just have to go back to my room and get rid of this hard on myself. I'll go lie on my bed, naked and _so_ hard, then I'll picture your lips on me and start stroking myself –"

"Seriously, stop!" Harry protested. "I'm trying to _not_ to jump on you, remember? That is the last thing I need to picture right now!"

Draco laughed. "Why? It gets you hot, doesn't it, picturing me beating off while thinking about you. "

Harry nodded. "You have no idea."

"I have some idea," Draco said mischievously.

Harry laughed. "I'll bet you do."

"Can I help it if I'm horny and you're hot?" Draco said, taking mock offense.

Harry smiled. "No, I guess not."

Draco kissed the tip of Harry's nose playfully and then rested his forehead against Harry's. "Just because we don't want to go all the way doesn't mean we can't do other stuff …" he whispered, his voice enticing.

Harry looked up. "Really? It won't freak you out?"

"I don't know for sure," Draco answered slowly. "But I want to try. Look how hard I am for you. I want this."

"You know I'll stop in a second if you say so, don't you?"

Draco nodded. "I know. I trust you. My room?"

Harry smiled. "Sure."

* * *

 _And I still see your reflection_

 _Inside of my eyes_

* * *

Draco kissed Harry, softly at first and then faster, with mounting passion as their tongues swirled around each other. Draco tasted good; sweet and salty and so good. Draco dragged his hand slowly down Harry's chest, stopping to press down on Harry's erection through increasingly tight material. Harry groaned softly, feeling it vibrate in his chest. Harry felt Draco smile against his lips.

"Do you want me to touch you, Harry Potter?" Draco whispered.

Harry's breath hitched at the sound of his name said like that. "Yes," he barely whispered back.

"What do you want?" Draco teased, pressing harder

"Oh," Harry breathed, his stomach tightening at the pressure.

"Tell me what you want," Draco murmured, now rubbing Harry slowly.

Harry couldn't breathe. "Clothes off …" he muttered, ripping at his own clothes and then Draco's, half expecting to wake up and find this was all a wonderful dream. "You're not afraid you won't measure up, are you?" Harry joked, to cover up the uncomfortable feeling that had crept up in his chest.

Draco managed to sneer through a deep blush. "You wish, Potter. I have nothing to be afraid of. It's you I feel sorry for."

Harry laughed. "There's the Draco Malfoy I know. So should we do it together?"

"I guess."

Harry pulled his boxers down slowly and watched Draco do the same. They took in the sight of each other with lust filled eyes for only a moment, before reattaching their lips, hands roaming wildly.

"Like … what you … saw, Potter?" Draco asked between kisses.

"Hell … yes …" Harry answered, surprised at the kind of animal ferocity that had risen in his chest. "You?"

"Just wait … until the school … finds … out that their precious … Harry Potter … is hu –"

"What?" Harry pulled away suddenly. "You wouldn't actually tell anyone that, would you?"

Draco laughed. "Of course not, I was kidding! Now get back here." Draco pulled Harry back and kissed him deeply.

Harry smiled against Draco mouth. When Draco wriggled closer and their cocks touched, skin on skin for the first time, Harry felt rather then heard a moan vibrate between them. Draco's legs were entangled in Harry's. Draco rocked ever so slightly with the rhythm of their kiss their erections rubbed together creating incredible friction. Both boys gasped in unison.

" _Fuck_ , Harry," Draco breathed, panting as if he'd run a mile.

"Say my name again," Harry asked softly.

Draco smiled. "Harry Potter," he whispered seductively.

Harry felt his cock twitch and his stomach jump. They kissed deeply and passionately, hand's stroking each other's erections with mounting speed and excitement. Harry's ears heard noises of ecstasy but his brain had no idea who had made them. All he knew was that he'd never felt anything as amazing as Draco's hand, touching and caressing all those forbidden places.

"Come for me …" Draco whispered, locking his lust-filled eyes onto Harry's.

And with one final stroke Harry did, never once taking his eyes off Draco's, and the feeling of something wet and hot on his stomach letting him know Draco had too.

Draco smiled shyly and kissed him softly, muttering what Harry recognized as a wandless cleaning spell out of the side of his mouth and pulling Harry into his arms.

"So?" Harry asked quietly.

"Perfect," Draco whispered.

"Not scary?"

Draco paused. "Yeah, a little … but I really do trust you."

Harry smiled and kissed his forehead. "Good. You should."

"What about you? Better than Ginny?"

Harry laughed. "Always have to be the best, don't you? Yes it was better, if you really need that for your scorebook. A hundred times."

"Did it feel weird to be doing it with a guy?"

Harry considered him for a moment. "No. I kind of thought it would, but it didn't. It felt …"

"Right," Draco finished.

Harry sighed blissfully. It would be a lie to say that his life was perfect, far from it in fact. But being with Draco was like a rainbow after a hurricane; being with him was a small glimpse of how beautiful life had the potential to be. Every day with Draco was happy, something Harry never thought he'd be able to say.

Harry stared happily into Draco's incredibly captivating eyes. Harry was once again amazed at how beautiful the person in front of him was. "So should we …?"

Draco shook his head. "Let's stay here for a while. I … I've missed you."

"You did?"

Draco's mouth curved into a shy smile. "Yeah. Guess I just got used to having you around."

Harry smiled back. "I missed you too. But what if someone finds us?"

Draco leaned his head onto Harry's chest. "Let them."

* * *

 _I tried my best to be guarded; I'm an open book instead_

* * *

Harry arrived back at the Gryffindor common room late that night. He couldn't stop smiling the whole way back, and every breath of fresh air filled him with a kind of exhilaration he had never felt from something an inconsequential as air.

"Where were you?" a familiar voice said quietly, the minute Harry climbed through the portrait hole.

Harry squinted through the darkness at a figure in front of the fire. "Ron?" he asked tentatively.

"You were with him, weren't you." It wasn't a question. Ron knew.

Harry sighed. "Yeah I was," he admitted, moving cautiously closer. Harry couldn't decide why Ron wanted to know. Ron didn't really sound mad, but he also didn't sound very happy. There was a tone in his voice that Harry recognized but couldn't quite place. Was it … hurt?

"You can sit down," Ron said after a moment, glancing at Harry quickly with a wounded look in his eyes.

Harry sat, unsure of what to say. They both stared into the slowly dying fire for a few minutes, its pops and crackles breaking the empty silence that hung in the air between them.

"Are you still mad at me?" Harry asked timidly.

Ron nodded, without switching his focus from the fireplace.

"… Ok," Harry muttered. "Well I'll be off to bed then …"

"No, I didn't mean I didn't want to talk to you or anything," Ron said quickly.

Harry sat back down slowly. Neither boy said anything for another few minutes.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

Ron looked up. "For what?"

"For … well I'm not exactly sure what for," Harry smiled in spite of himself. "I guess I'm sorry that you're mad at me."

Ron nodded slowly and stared at his hands. "I don't really know what to say. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know I hurt you and I feel bad about that. I know you didn't choose to be this way … and I don't really think you did stuff to me in my sleep," he added, wincing apologetically. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."

"So then what are you mad about?" Harry asked.

"Lots of things," Ron said softly. "I'm mad that you're with Malfoy."

"Why?"

"Because I hate him!" Ron exclaimed. "And you used to hate him too, and I don't understand why you don't anymore! I don't understand how you can just switch from hating someone's guts to shagging them! And I'm mad that you don't hate him anymore, because I don't think he deserves you. I'm mad that you're spending time with him instead of me. And I'm mad that you didn't tell me right away when you started seeing him."

Harry's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe the injustice of that statement. "I – that is so unfair."

"How so? I tell _you_ everything," Ron pointed out almost casually, as though he were being entirely reasonable.

"Bullshit. You do not tell me everything," Harry retorted.

"What haven't I told you?" Ron demanded indignantly.

"Oh I don't know. How about the fact that you've been totally nuts about Hermione for six years?" Harry asked sarcastically.

The flush in Ron's cheeks spread quickly down his neck. "I … I have not …" he declared unconvincingly.

"Please, you're a terrible liar. You always have been," Harry said coldly. "Why were you so mad when you thought she liked me if you didn't like her yourself? Anyway the point is, the only reason I'm not spending time with you is because you weren't speaking to me! And I didn't tell you because I was worried you'd get mad and wouldn't understand. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yeah, you were right. I _am_ mad, and I _don't_ understand!" Ron exploded, jumping up. "I don't understand how this all happened, I mean all our lives we liked girls and now all of a sudden you just change your mind?"

"Yeah, I did. But why does it even matter?" Harry cried. "I don't see how that affects you in any way."

"It affects me because I'm your friend!" Ron yelled back. "It's like, the whole time we've known each other we've always been mostly the same. We liked the same things, we did the same things. We moved at the same pace. And now all of a sudden you're speeding off in some new direction and you've left me behind. You're making all these changes, and not only did you not tell me, but you're leaving me out of them."

Harry was shocked, but in a big way relieved. Everything clicked into place the moment the words left Ron's mouth. He finally knew exactly what Ron was feeling; he knew why Ron was so upset. "That's what you think? That I'm deliberately changing things to block you out?"

"Well, what conclusions would you come to under the circumstances?" Ron snapped, beginning to pace in a circle. "You _did_ make a whole bunch of changes, and you _did_ leave me out of them! Why? No, you know what? I don't care why. What I want to know is how the hell did you end up with Malfoy? I mean yeah, he's a good enough looking guy and all, but I didn't think he was hot enough to turn someone gay."

"He didn't turn me gay, Ron," Harry said quietly.

Ron stopped pacing suddenly. "Do you love him?"

"I …" Harry's voice faltered. "Yeah," he whispered after a moment, his heart suddenly racing as he admitted it out loud for the first time. "Yeah, I do."

Ron's face fell. "You do?"

Harry nodded. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to, but I didn't know how you were going to react, and I didn't want to lose you. You mean too much to me."

"Do I mean more to you than him?"

Harry sighed. "Please don't do this."

Ron shook his head. "No, I'm gonna. I don't even know who you are anymore. The Harry I knew would never pick Draco Malfoy over his best friend."

"I'm not picking him over you, Ron –"

"Then answer the question. Who means more to you? I want to know."

"How can I answer that?" Harry objected. "You're important to me in a completely different way than he is. You're my best friend and he's … well …" Harry trailed off.

"Your lover?" Ron suggested obnoxiously.

Harry glared at Ron. "No, not my lover." _You prick_ , he didn't need to add.

"Then what is he?" Ron snapped.

Harry stood up, finally having had enough. "What the hell do you think? I told you I loved him, didn't I? Or is your head so filled up with your own shit that you can't hear anymore?"

"So then what is he?" Ron persisted.

"I don't have to waste my time explaining myself to someone who doesn't want anything to do with me anyway!" Harry yelled. "If you were really my friend you'd accept my decision even if you didn't understand it. And if you were really my friend you wouldn't make me choose between you!"

"Well if you were really _my_ friend you'd realize that this is hard for me!" Ron shouted back.

Harry stared. "What?"

"I'm trying to understand all this, I really am, but it's hard," Ron said in a defeated voice. "I _don't_ understand why you've made this decision, but I am trying to."

Harry smiled weakly. "Hermione yelled at you, didn't she?"

Ron laughed quietly. "Yeah, she did."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry about that, mate. I asked her not to, I really did. What did she say?"

"A series of very shrill things, mostly revolving around that this was hard enough for you without me making it worse. And that you need me to be your friend right now."

"She's right, you know. I do need you to be my friend. This is a decision I've already made, and there's nothing anyone can do to change it, but it would mean a lot to me if you could find some way to be ok with it," Harry said softly.

Ron nodded slowly. "I … it won't be easy for me, you need to understand that. But if it really means that much to you then I'll try."

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

"Hold on a moment, you're not off the hook quite yet," Ron said, his eyes narrowing dangerously again.

Harry looked at him, confused. "What?"

"We need to talk about Hermione," Ron said coolly. "You never denied it when I accused you of being in love with her, did you? Fine, I admit it, I'm crazy about her. You know I am. And I want to know what there is between you two."

"There isn't anything but friendship between us. I've never gone for her, Ron, I wasn't lying to you when I said that," Harry said quietly. "But I'm not going to lie to you now and say I don't love her."

Ron looked crestfallen. "You do?"

"Of course I do," Harry said simply. "How could I not after all she's done for me? Taking time out of her life to help me with homework. All the times she's saved my life, all the times she's gotten me out of trouble. Remember when she had McGonagall check my firebolt for jinxes before I rode it?"

"That doesn't count, we were furious with her for that!" Ron snapped.

"That's the point. She wanted to protect me no matter how angry it made me. She was willing to risk losing the only friends she had just to make sure I was safe. I never, ever forgot that. And all the times we've faced Voldemort, all the times she's risked her life for me."

"I was there for all those things too!" Ron cried indignantly.

"I know you were, but it's different for you. Not that I don't appreciate you being there," Harry said quickly as Ron's eyes narrowed again, "But it is different for you, and don't look at me like that, you know it is. You're from a Wizarding family. Your parents and brothers are in the Order and your whole family is close with Dumbledore. I'd be willing to bet you'd be out there fighting Voldemort even if you and I never met. Because you were born into the fight against him, you were born with hate for him in your blood. She wasn't. She could just as easily have walked away, from me and from him, and led a happy and peaceful life without all of this. I wouldn't have blamed her if she did. Hell, I probably would have if I were her. But she didn't. And she won't."

"Fine, fine, I get it. She's wonderful," Ron said impatiently. "What's your point?"

Harry sighed. "The point is how could I not love her after all that? Of course I do. And I probably always will. But I'm not _in_ love with her, and I'm never going to go for her."

Ron stared at Harry for a few moments, maybe trying to decide whether Harry was being sincere or not. "You're not?" he said after a minute.

Harry smiled to himself at the hopefulness in Ron's voice. "Of course not. She's yours, Ron, she's always been yours. I wouldn't want it any other way."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "We're always going to be friends, aren't we?"

Harry laughed out loud at the grimace on Ron's face. "I'm afraid so," he said bracingly. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

Ron smiled in spite of himself. "That's ok, I guess. I don't mind you so much, really."

Harry punched him lightly on the arm. "Promise me something, though, will you?" he asked slowly. "I know I'm famous and all, and if things keep going the way they've been going, I'm going to be famous for the rest of our lives. If it's any consolation I don't want to be. But I want you to promise me that whatever happens, you'll never let anyone make you feel like you're not good enough. Even me."

Ron blushed, but nodded slowly. "You got it."

* * *

 _I may have lost my way now_

 _But haven't forgotten my way home_

* * *

Harry and Hermione were sprawled out under the shade of a tree in the grounds, chatting casually, having just given up studying. She was saying something about the Herbology final, but Harry hadn't been listening. Instead he thought about how everything in his life seemed to have fallen into place, and how he owed most of it to her. He studied the girl in front of him for a moment. For reasons he couldn't explain it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. Her pretty smile, her warm brown eyes, her honey colored hair falling gently in curls around her face. It was as if he'd spent seven years looking right at her, but had never really _looked_ at her.

"When did you get so beautiful?" he asked thoughtfully, before he could stop himself.

Hermione looked up in surprise. She stared at Harry with slightly squinted eyes and what looked like several emotions playing across her face. "Please don't do this, Harry," she said after a moment, sounding exhausted.

Harry was confused. "Don't do what?"

"Look, I know you're still mad at Ron," she continued quietly. "And I know you probably think the best way to get back at him is to do exactly what he thinks we already are. And believe me, he doesn't deserve any better. But this is wrong."

"No, no, I didn't mean that," Harry said quickly. "I just meant … well I'm not exactly sure what I meant. Why _did_ nothing ever happen with us?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I have no idea. I've wondered that before too. There are a hundred reasons why you're perfect for me. But maybe that's why nothing happened. We're too perfect."

"Meaning what?"

"What do you feel when you look at Draco?" Hermione asked slowly.

Harry stared at her, bewildered. "I … I don't know. It's always different."

"Exactly. It's always new, always exciting, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Hermione didn't say anything for a few moments. She stared out over the lake, her expression pensive. When she did speak, it was with the delicacy of a person trying to protect someone else's feelings. "You and me … not to say it's not exciting. But it's a different kind of exciting. When you look at someone you have those kinds of feelings for it makes you feel awkward and scared and thrilled all at the same time."

Harry nodded. "I know what you mean."

"Do you … do you feel that when you look at me?"

Harry studied her again. She was no less than the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, and probably ever would see. And yet, he couldn't believe all he could say was "No."

Hermione looked apologetically relieved. "Me neither. I mean, not that you aren't –"

"I know," Harry cut her off. "You too. You _are_."

She flushed, but smiled. "I look at you and I see … familiarity. It's comfortable, it's _easy_ ; being with you. Our relationship is uncomplicated. I look at you and I feel at home. And I think a relationship needs to be difficult sometimes. It needs to be uncomfortable, it needs to push you to new limits. A long time ago I stopped believing in the notion that I'd just meet someone and fall in love and it would be perfect. Because I don't think I want it to be perfect."

"Do you want Ron?" Harry asked carefully.

Hermione opened her mouth slightly, a snappy retort clearly stuck in her throat, but then sighed and stared helplessly across the lake. "I don't know. Maybe," she said in a small voice.

"Then forgive him."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "I can't."

"Why not?" Harry insisted. "I do."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "You do?"

"We talked last night," Harry told her. "Well, we yelled for a bit first, and then we talked. He told me he's been acting like he has because he felt like I was pushing him out of my life, like I was leaving him behind. I know he hasn't been a good friend lately, but I understand where's he's coming from, I really do. I'm sure I would feel the same way if he'd kept something this big from me. And I know he's sorry."

For a second Harry thought she hadn't heard him. She stared anxiously across the grounds, and Harry followed her eye line to a tall figure with shockingly orange hair heading strait for them.

"I have to go," Hermione said stonily, quickly gathering her things together.

"No, Hermione, don't do this," Harry pleaded. "Just talk to him."

"I won't," Hermione said flatly, standing up and heaving her large bag over her shoulder. "I don't want to see him."

"You realize how much worse it'll make things when he sees you leaving," Harry pointed out, but she was already gone. Harry sighed hopelessly, wondering what on earth he was going to say to Ron.

"That was Hermione, wasn't it?" Ron asked as he approached.

Harry nodded miserably, collecting his books. "Sorry, mate. I've tried to get her to talk to you."

Ron sighed. "I don't know what to do."

"Me neither," Harry said, standing up and brushing the grass from his open robes. "But I have to go, I'm going to Hogsmeade with Draco and here he comes."

He nodded in the direction of the castle where Draco was making his way toward them, his face flushing as he noticed Ron.

"Hi," Draco said uncertainly as he reached them.

Ron simply nodded stiffly.

"Ron, this is Draco Malfoy," Harry said slowly.

Ron stared at Harry, confused. "We already know each other, mate," he said slowly, his brow furrowed.

Harry shook his head. "No, you don't. You know a version of each other based on reputations and what you can see on the outside, but you don't know the real person. I don't need you to be best friends, but I do need you to give each other a second chance. Please, for me."

Ron and Draco eyed each other warily, but after a moment Ron extended his hand grudgingly, and Draco took it.

"Ron Weasley," Ron said, shaking Draco's hand reluctantly but firmly.

"Pleasure," Draco responded, with the air of someone forcing themselves not to laugh.

"Thank you," Harry said smiling, as the boys pulled away. "Ready to go, Draco?"

Draco nodded.

"Ok, you go, I'll be right there," Harry said, watching Draco start to walk away. "Thanks Ron, really. That meant a lot to me."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't think this means we're going to start trading Chocolate Frog cards or anything."

Harry laughed. "I know. But it's still important to me that you're going to try."

* * *

 _In the pain there is healing_

* * *

Harry was in a large dark room. He looked around curiously. A beam of light told him that a door stood slightly ajar at the end of the room. He moved slowly toward it, very confused and for some reason his head felt slightly numb. He pushed the door open wider and peered inside, his body freezing at what he saw. Draco was hanging in the air as if invisible ropes were tied under his arms. He had been gagged, and his eyes were wide and terrified.

"Draco!" Harry cried. "What the hell –" Harry stopped short. A tall, hooded figure came slowly out of the shadows at the back of the room.

"It would be in the best interests of you and your friend here that you don't make any sudden movements, Harry Potter," a soft voice whispered.

"Who are you?" Harry heard himself say, his voice wavering.

"You know who I am," the figured answered. "And you know what I want."

"Where are we?"

"It doesn't matter where we are," the figured said slowly, moving around to stand behind Draco. "But what I want is very important indeed. It is the same thing I have wanted for years now. Seventeen years to be exact."

"What the hell is going on? What are you talking about?" Harry asked, his whole body shaking in fear.

"I've told you, Harry, you know what I want. The whole Wizarding world knows what I want," the voice hissed. "I want you."

Harry froze. He felt around for his wand, but found in a panic that it was not there. There was something familiar about that voice. Something familiar about that whispering and hissing, so much like some kind of snake … _Voldemort_ , Harry realized with a jolt. That was Voldemort!

"What do you want from me?" he yelled, backing into the wall. "Where the hell are we and what does any of this have to do with Draco?"

Voldemort laughed his high, cold laugh, sending shivers down Harry's neck. "I don't want anything _from_ you, boy! I just want you! I want you over with and out of the way! Young Mr. Malfoy has been a very naughty little servant hasn't he, fraternizing with the enemy. Lord Voldemort usually punishes very severely for crimes of this nature, however in this case I so compassionately chose to see it as an advantage in my favor."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry spat.

"You care a great deal for the boy whose life so opportunely happens to be at my disposure," Voldemort said silkily. "We are both men who know what we want, aren't we Harry Potter? I want you out of my way, and you, well you would like Mr. Malfoy to leave this place on his own two feet instead of in a body bag. The way I see it there is a very simple way for us to both to get what we want."

Voldemort pulled out his wand swiftly and aimed it at Draco's head. "So Mr. Potter, as gracious as Lord Voldemort always is, I offer you a choice. You can surrender yourself to me, or you can have the job of explaining to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy exactly why their son is no longer with us."

"What … what …" Harry spluttered, in shock. "No, no don't hurt him!"

"Well, well, Mr. Potter. Going to courteously step aside and save your friend? Very noble of you, Harry, very noble indeed. Your parents would have been proud. As you wish then," Voldemort pointed his wand directly at Harry instead. "I must admit you have been a worthy adversary, Harry Potter. I almost regret having to kill you; it has been fun, hasn't it?"

"NO!" Harry shouted.

"You would rather I kill Mr. Malfoy?"

"No!" Harry yelled again, his feet frozen to the floor.

Voldemort took a step toward Harry. "You must choose, Harry. One of you is going to die here tonight, and I do not have all night for you to contemplate your decision. So do choose quickly."

"I … I …"

"Oh come now, Harry, this is not nearly as difficult as you're making it. It boils down to this: whose life do you value more? Yours," Voldemort gestured towards Harry with his wand, "or his?" Voldemort swung his wand back towards Draco's terrified face.

"I can't … I don't …" Fear had taken over Harry's brain and had stripped him of the ability to form coherent sentences.

"Time is running out Harry," Voldemort hissed. "Keep in mind I will have no problem doing away with both of you if it comes to that."

"No, please, there has to be another way –"

"There is no other way, Potter, have I not made that clear?" Voldemort yelled, losing his temper at last. "There will only be two of us leaving this room tonight, and one of them is going to be me. I have very generously given you the choice of who the second will be, however my patience wears thin, and it will not be much longer until I stop being so kind. Now decide!"

Harry mouthed wordlessly, his heart pounding audibly in his chest.

"Fine, if you will not decide then I will do it for you!" Voldemort spat.

Harry heard himself cry out as a flash of green light blinded him.

He sat up quickly, shaking uncontrollably and drenched in a cold sweat.

"Draco!" Harry screamed, looking around, terrified. "Draco!"

Harry heard stirring around him.

"Harry?" Ron said dazedly. "Harry what's wrong?"

"Where's Draco?" Harry shouted hysterically, tearing his sheets off and jumping up.

"Draco?" Dean asked. "You mean Malfoy?"

"Yes, Malfoy!" Harry yelled. "Where is he?"

"He's not here, mate," Ron said, groggily. "What's wrong?"

Harry didn't answer. He tore out of the dormitory, barely aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt. He sprinted out of the common room and ran headfirst into Snape.

"POTTER!" Snape stormed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Draco's dying!" Harry shouted, picking himself up off the floor and running down the hall toward the Slytherin common room, leaving Snape on the ground, yelling after him.

He reached the dungeons breathlessly, his heart and mind racing, and pounded on the portrait of the snake. "Draco!" he shouted. "Somebody help me! Draco Malfoy is dead, somebody help me!"

The portrait swung open suddenly, knocking Harry to the floor.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" a student Harry didn't recognize yelled. "It's four in the morning!"

Harry ignored the boy and pushed pass him, racing up to Draco's room. "Draco!" he yelled, bursting into the room.

Draco rolled over in bed and stared at Harry, confused. "Harry?" he asked, squinting through the darkness. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"You … you're not dead …" Harry breathed, his stomach unclenching.

Draco's brow furrowed. "No, I'm not," he said slowly, standing up. "Harry what's the matter with you? What are you doing here?"

"You're not dead!" Harry whispered, collapsing on the floor in relief. "You're not dead."

"Harry!" Draco cried, dropping to his knees beside Harry. "Harry, what's going on?"

Harry stared up happily into Draco's worried eyes. "You were there, and he asked me to choose whether I wanted him to kill me or you, and I didn't pick, so he did the killing curse but I couldn't see who he killed, but I woke up so I knew it wasn't me, so it must've been you, and I ran all the way over here, but you're ok! You're not dead."

Draco's mouth was slightly open. "Harry, I have no idea what you're talking about. You were where? And who did the killing curse?"

"Voldemort," Harry breathed, finally catching his breath.

Draco's eyes widened. " _The Dark Lord_? Where? What are you talking about?"

Harry sat up. "I woke up and I thought you were dead."

"Oh." Draco looked confused. "You mean it was a dream?"

"I … I …" Harry spluttered, the truth dawning on him at last. "Yeah … yeah I guess it was. I never thought of that."

"What the hell?" Draco punched Harry on the arm. "You scared me to death! What is the matter with you?"

"I … I ..." Harry muttered, feeling his face growing hot, "I just … thought it was real. Sorry for waking you up, I'll go now." He got up quickly, his eyes stinging with embarrassment.

"No, wait, don't go," Draco pulled Harry back. "I'm sorry. Stay with me for a while."

Harry's face was still burning, but he let himself be led into Draco's bed. Draco layed down on his back and motioned for Harry to join him, which Harry did a bit too eagerly. He rested his head on Draco's smooth chest and allowed himself to be wrapped in the safe, comforting heat of Draco's arms.

"People are going to start talking if they see both of us come out of your room tomorrow morning," Harry said weakly.

"So we'll let them talk," Draco murmured, stroking Harry's arm lovingly. He kissed Harry's forehead softly. "Or we'll stay here forever.

* * *

 _I am damaged at best, but you've already figured that out_

* * *

Harry hurried down the stairs from his dormitory and into the common room, late as usual for his meeting with Draco. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron walking slowly to the table were Hermione sat, stubbornly pretending she hadn't seen him. Harry fought with himself for a few moments, torn between getting to the Astronomy Tower before Draco gave up and left, and staying to listen in. Harry ducked down behind a chair, sure neither Ron nor Hermione had seen him, and let his curiosity win over his better judgment.

"Can I sit down?" Ron asked tentatively.

"I suppose," Hermione said stiffly, not taking her eyes off her notes.

They sat in silence for a few moments. With all his might Harry fought the urge to jump up and tell them both how stupid they were being. Instead he listened, with baited breath, as Ron finally spoke.

"Harry and I made up."

"I know," Hermione said shortly.

Ron looked around helplessly. "Look, I made a mistake. I admit that. I would take it back if I could, but I can't. So tell me what I have to do to make it right."

"I … I don't know," Hermione answered, still not looking at him.

"Whatever it is, I'll do it," Ron said, putting his hand over Hermione's. "You know that, don't you?"

Hermione nodded. "I just need some time, ok? It will take me some time to forgive you."

Ron took his hand off Hermione's. "What am I supposed to do until then?"

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you really love me?" she asked, smiling a little.

Ron smiled widely, and brushed some hair out of her eyes softly. "I always have."

"Then be patient, ok?"

"That's not one of my better qualities, you know."

Hermione laughed. "I know, believe me."

Harry didn't think he could contain himself much longer. His insides tingled with glee, and he thought he might be in danger of bursting with happiness. He snuck quietly out of the common room, the beautiful sound of Hermione laughing following him down the hall.

* * *

 _With a broken heart that's still beating_

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," Harry said absentmindedly as he rushed into the Astronomy Tower almost a half and hour after he'd agreed to meet Draco. "You'll never guess what just hap –"

Harry stopped short, momentarily unable to speak as he took in the sight of Draco. The other boy look like he'd just been through some kind of tornado – his clothes were ripped, his hair was everywhere, and Harry recoiled as he saw that Draco's face and arms were covered in bruises and nasty looking gashes, some of them still bleeding.

"What the hell happened to you?" he cried, rushing over to Draco.

Draco didn't answer, his expression stony and unreadable.

"Draco, did something attack you?" Harry asked.

Draco pressed his lips together, obviously holding something back.

"Draco, seriously!" Harry said urgently. "We have to get you to the hospital wing, some of these cuts look pretty bad."

Draco shook his head wordlessly.

"Why not?" Harry asked desperately. "Draco, please say something. You're scaring me."

"I don't want to go to the hospital wing," Draco finally whispered.

"Well then at least tell me what happened," Harry said, silently praying Draco hadn't been hurt because of him.

"I saw how great it was for you to have Ron and Hermione be ok with us, and I wanted that too," Draco said quietly. "So … so I told someone about us."

"And they beat you up?" Harry cried.

Draco shook his head sharply. "He didn't beat me up!" he said loudly. "He just got a little carried away, that's all."

"Who did you tell?"

Draco said nothing again, his eyes shining and his jaw clenched.

"Draco, please …" Harry said softly.

"My father," Draco said after a moment, almost inaudibly.

Harry froze, completely stunned. Draco had told Mr. Malfoy about their relationship and Mr. Malfoy had beat Draco up because of it? Harry felt sick as he looked at a smear of blood under Draco's left eye. "He did this to you?" Harry asked, horrified.

"He didn't mean to," Draco said, surprisingly calmly. "He just gets angry sometimes. I was expecting him to react this way. Plus he's under a lot of stress at work right now, and his only son being gay is kind of a shock, especially considering I'm with you of all people, and …" Draco trailed off, apparently unable to think of more excuses.

"He's done this before, hasn't he?" Harry said bleakly, his own voice full of a kind of hopelessness he couldn't quite explain.

Draco took a deep, shuddering breath, and said nothing, but Harry already knew the answer.

"Please don't be mad at him," Draco said finally.

Harry stared. "How … how can I not be mad at him? How can _you_ not be mad at him?

A few silent tears spilled from Draco's eyes, and Harry's chest clenched painfully.

"Why the hell would you even tell him if you knew he'd do this?" Harry asked.

"Because I love you!" Draco shouted suddenly, tears now streaming down his face.

Harry froze, his mouth slightly open. "You … you what?"

"Did you actually think there was a possibility that I didn't?" Draco said in a horribly broken voice that cut right through Harry. "I'm terrified of anything to do with love and relationships, remember? But I'm still here, aren't I? And I'm risking everything, all for you. I mean, this isn't just me and some random guy! This is me and you, Harry. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. The epitome of good and evil. Sworn enemies, right from the beginning. I hate your guts, Potter! If I didn't love you why the hell else would I still be here?"

Harry couldn't move. Draco turned around and punched the wall, then leaned against it, shaking. Harry tried with all his might to move his legs, but they had apparently become glued to the floor. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound would come out. He tried to punch himself, hoping to snap himself out of it, but his arms had also become paralyzed. His insides twisted at the memory of the dried blood below Draco's eye. Even worse, the bruises he could still see on the back of Draco's arm were boring into his eyes. Draco's soft but desperate sobs seared into him like a thousand swords into his heart. They might as well be cutting him open from the inside; they were causing him greater pain than mere knives ever could. Harry had no idea how long he stood there; a minute, a day, a year; time meant nothing to him. Nothing meant anything to him anymore, nothing but the sobbing boy still leaning against the wall. Finally Harry forced his foot to step forward, then the next one, slowly making his way toward Draco. Toward the only person in the world he cared about in that moment. He was inches from Draco before Draco spoke.

"Please don't touch me," he choked.

Harry's ears heard the words but his brain had forgotten what they meant, maybe forever. He didn't care. What did words matter? Words would not change what he had done. It was his fault. The bruises, the blood and the pain were all his fault. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder, wishing Draco would scream, punch him, curse him, kill him; anything. Harry deserved it all. But Harry knew he wouldn't. And Draco didn't. He just turned slowly, the purple patches on his face slashing Harry's insides.

"This has to end, Harry. Now that my father knows it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord finds out, and he'll use me as a trap to get to you. He'll kill you. It's too dangerous for us to be together. Besides, it's you who is meant to defeat him once and for all, Harry, I know it is. The world needs you, and I can't get in the way of that," Draco finally whispered.

Harry didn't respond. He couldn't. His brain had forgotten how to speak. It was just as well, though. Even if he could speak he wouldn't. There were no words. He enveloped Draco in a tight embrace, half hoping to squeeze the unhappiness out of him. Draco tried to pull away but Harry didn't let him. They struggled for a moment before sinking to the floor in a heap, Harry holding tight to Draco even as they fell.

"I love you too. So much," Harry breathed.

"You do?"

"Of course I do," Harry whispered. "I have for weeks now."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because …" Harry hesitated. "Well, partly because I didn't know if you loved me, and I didn't want to scare you. But mostly because … I didn't know how to say it. Those words seem like such a cliché somehow. And on top of everything, they're not enough. They're just words, and words can't begin to describe how I feel."

"I …" Draco began.

"No, don't say anything," Harry cut him off. "Let's just leave it there for now, ok?

"But the Dark Lord –"

"Shh." Harry put a finger to Draco's lips. "I know the risks of us being together. And I'm willing to take them. You're worth anything."

Harry kissed him slowly and fully, and then laid them both on the floor wrapping Draco in his arms. Harry felt Draco's body relax, surrendering to the warmth of Harry's protecting arms. Neither Harry nor Draco had ever had loving arms to protect them before, and they might not ever again. Harry knew it was late already, and it could be only hours before they were found. But for the precious time they had they were sheltered from the cold that waited for them outside of their sanctuary. They were safe. Maybe not forever, maybe not even for tomorrow. But for now, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

* * *

 _I'm falling apart; I'm barely breathing_

 _So I'm holding on, barely, but holding on to you_

* * *


End file.
